Deep in the nuts and bolts of creation,
I run the spell check and contact actors.
Somehow clinging to my inspiration,
Trying to organize all the factors,
Which twist a mass of words into a play,
A script, an event, a night of drama
That gets a paying audience to stay
And listen to pentameter Mama
Let’s pretend that we’re young and beautiful,
With all the riches that fantasy brings.
Respected, sought after and dutiful,
All of the typical successful things.
Dance and dally with scenes of comedy
End with inevitable tragedy.
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