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Poetry: Empty stage

by Jon Coe

No lights, no props, to help me be
standing here, struggling in reality
Empty seats, with deafening glare
no lines to say, I'm stripped so bare

Ghostly actors enact their scenes
passing through the in betweens
Audiences clapping in my mind
a curtain call, with me entwined

Writng words to fill this bill
no dress rehersal, standing still
I take a bow and look around
and it is me, that I have found

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