Act two, Scene one
He lost the girl
And stabbed his best friend
In the back
The audience roared
With approving censure
His next cue
Came from a dark corner
He walked on stage and said
God was but a figment
Of man’s imagination
When the sixth round
Of applause died down
He rested
His final curtain call
The spotlight caressed him
Like a lover
A dozen red roses and hearts
Lay at his feet
He looks at the audience
And sees for the first time
His screams of horror
Are lost in the standing ovation
Of silence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem