Xit

No encore to ensue
like before
.Crickets  once more.
The showing through
with certain cues- to bow
but how?          There's no belief its over now.
Too soon suited stepping on the stage
    arrived
and given lock to key the cage,
         sent to stun                    amaze.
At the line, ready to go-
  but, yet-
I’ve forgot to set
and someone’s pulled the curtains I bet.
  The ending bars, the lining cars.
  By now its time to leave
  but theres applause I won’t receive.
         I can’t be done;
                   in the back there stands
               with broom in hand
      tomorrow,
                   but it must’ve been fun.’
I drop my head and won't forget
the preparation
and adulation that went into this
         disarray,
and now lay dead.