This endless play is getting hard to play
When every actor wants to write his role
And every minor wants to have a say
In what was meant to be my spectacle
You left the stage before your cue, my dear
Left me speechless, this scriptwriter of note
Looking for a new cast and crew, and fear
A small role in your theatre remote
I did not know where to start looking, my
Pages missing, pencils with no lead
I gathered all my wits and wisdom, tried
To keep this madness far away; I failed
How can I put you back into my play
When you took my writing skills away
Excellent writing, and a beautiful final couplet. Very entertaining to read.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you Stefanie, I appreciate your comments.