Memory Of Cats - After T.S. Eliot And Andrew Lloyd Webber Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Midnight not a soul on bare scene left,
like hurt heart that has been reft
from cue beat on life’s stage.
Just spotlit echoes must haunt empty stalls,
outcast cats have sprung their cage.

Memory, all alone as bright lights dim,
where once stage-struck might minds swim -
fast bust cast must disengage!
Phantom sound waves hesitantly recall
heavy heart’s swing – turn the page!

No more floor dance, no performance,
cast is fast askance,
Time encircles plush stalls and circles,
silence, footloose, heavy falls.

Daylight, one must wait for the sunrise,
for no longer may cats’ eyes
twinkle out and assuage.
Only echo, tonight as comparison galls,
henceforth hovers here onstage.

Time disperses all fat purses,
contract contrast appals,
sad circumstance, outlook errance,
promptly unmasks surface romance.

Ditch me, its so easy to leave me
all alone with my memory
of full-house pounce bounce - turn life's page!
If you ask me you’ll understand necessity prompts
search for fresh part to engage...