Acting is your forte.
Your part you did play
(Was it really only yesterday)?
So incredibly well
That it was almost impossible to tell
What in your heart did dwell.

It was a mere sinch
To convince
Me you meant no harm.
But your charm
Should have sounded an alarm.
I know you to well
And the slight smell
Of doubt
Ought to have caused me to throw you out.

I suspect
Someone tells you your lines.
While I ought to have seen the signs
There is a grudging respect
For your acting skill.
I wonder will
You fluff a line
One fine day
And stand, tongue tied with nothing to say?

Surely your charm
Can not forever disarm
The suspicion
Of those who should recognise pedition.

Yes, one day you will trip
And fall off the stage.
The audience will turn
In rage
And learn
Who feeds you those almost perfect lines.

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