Written by: Vee Bdosa

Come life and death of it you blessed rhapsody
you've played for long enough and now it's time to go
there's not a better time than now to let it be
insanities its own and best reward you know

deep in the night while there's no certain thing
but passion for the grief that lingers on and on
as damp and cold as fog as hot as summers sting
come life and death of it before this act is gone

there must be question to the ends uncertainty
that's led us guessing, why was this thing said
and is the act onstage or what the actors see
beyond the blinding light among the walking dead

who come to be amused right through our greatest fear
of no aplause; or laughter where there should be none
and we must speak each word for everyone to hear
exactly as they plan so that the show goes on.

and yes they knew the end before the curtain call
but made production's costs a thing to bear
and every star that's in the sky could surely fall
from how it shines tonnight unless the fire is there

they cannot see the moving of the props around
sometimes in pandemonium, at best in haste
nor setting of the stage--this is our holy ground
the tinting of each face the tightening of waist

there no one dares to tread except for those who see
the detail of it all must blend into the play
as carefully as we make this, our tragedy,
the making up must be complete in every way

we must not let the ending go beyond the end
or all is lost and all we'll hear is mumbelings 
and lack of press where there has never been a friend
so life and death of it come down though pain it brings

let not the curtain to ascend the play is done
and weary are the actors they've performed quite well
as real as life so now the show must not go on
past curtain fall there's nothing more we have to tell.
©ronwilson aka veebdosa the doylestown poet