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
Me you meant no harm.
But your charm
Should have sounded an alarm.
I know you to well
And the slight smell
Ought to have caused me to throw you out.
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
Of those who should recognise pedition.
Yes, one day you will trip
And fall off the stage.
The audience will turn
Who feeds you those almost perfect lines.
Sitting on a bench in the school playground
With children milling all around.
Yes, I remember it as though it was yesterday,
The actors came to perform a play.
With a longing only half understood.
Unable to speak
And gawkishly shy,
Where I to address
The girl in the summer dress.
I recollect nought of the play
Yet thoughts of the actresses with me stay.
‘Tis said one becomes a sage.
Different actors perform upon the stage
And now my hair is grey
To see the players play.
As with the actors of yesterday
They too, will fade away.