An actor – to no-one special but for the local theatres that he oft frequents
People do wax lyrical, mention him in back of hand passing, supposed pretenders propose to match his soliloquy endeavour for equalled gusto, yet they never, ever will
Glorified also-rans with glad-ragged scripts enticed inside of desperate hands
This particular thing has been outrageously distilled, chilling to watch it all unravel, travel like no one’s known business
Conscientiously addictive
‘Til, finally, they do suppose to pose it from the rapturous rooftops
Soon as he stands upon that barely there stage in utter hope, bear-hugs atop chokes them all into oh so comfortable submission
From way back a yonder
Even the more, shall we say, argumentative critics have to sit and ponder awhile, permit to him this – persuaded by what’s life-alteringly sensational, the less he tries the fonder they are startled
They just don’t seem to know that he hatched a dastardly plan immediately from the battle-hardened beginning – when you’d to work for your every worth when worth amounted to nothing but dirt tax alone
And, now, he gets to sit back down and take every single bit of it in, no longer from the inside looking out
When this dishevelled piece of brilliance suddenly amounts to everything

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