the comeback

The stage is nearly bare
a microphone and a wooden stool
It has been a long time
The tables are mainly empty
A heavy-set waitress ambles by
Emptying ashtrays and carting away glasses
People have forgotten making him more nervous
Then when they remembered
He wonders if he can still cut it
If he still has the magic
Even in the early days he never believed
His hand trembles picking up a glass of water
He casts an eye at the exit
It would be so easy to just slip out; to vanish again
But then he would never know
And that question is all he has left