Onstage
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.