633 – Curtain

With a sad half-smile
The pale ghosts
Of our high hopes
And happy dreams
Of what the year would bring
Take a final bow
Before exiting
Stage-left.

There’s no applause,
From the empty seats,
No flowers waiting
Backstage.

The makeup
Of great projects,
Wild adventures,
Crazy love,
Fades away
As empty faces
Are carefully wiped clean
Before the mirror
Of reality.

No tears are shed,
No goodbyes spoken.
The stage lights
Simply clack off.

One by one
The weary actors
Fade back and melt away
Into a dusty corner
Of our minds,
Leaving almost no trace
Like a shallow desert grave
Marked only by a single patch
Of withered grass.

• • •

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