Lots of people come and go

Then they sit and look around;

There’s nothing wrong with that

Except the mere fact,

That doing this they are content.

What a waste of precious time.

What a waste of a person’s life

To be talking shop

Or discussing other’s lives.

The bell rings,

The lights are dimmed,

A hush follows,

The mood is set.

Then the actors on the stage

Sing and talk and seem a fool,

And the audience, laugh and laugh,

Till their tears form a pool.

When the actors disappear

And it’s time to stand and go,

All their talking starts anew,

As the lights, come on.

What a sorry sight they are

Bobbing, laughing like a clown,

All dressed up to their teeth they are

When, at last they all fall down.         

                    © Denise Nowakowski, Aug 2002