Onstage

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The streets looked so good from stage left,
I'll miss the people. 
I was more down to earth with them.
What if this isn't fun?
I bet it's not fun. 

He crept out, crowd cheering.
He said a joke or two, what a laugh.
He longed for stage left.
Wished he could run.
His mind a blur, his heart in his head.

But he went back out, 
The crowd roared applause
He charged stage left, 
The manager indifferent.
But he couldn't return—
The streets, a shadow.

Of the stage he now knew
Knew intimately, not fully.
Time will make me more comfortable,
He hopes.
But the streets look good too.

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