The image fades on an empty stage
The dusty props no more engage

Memories lost in broken time
No actor left to read the line

A phantom crowd with tickets wait
A show to see there is no gate

A faceless cast that has no cue
A shadowed theater has no review

The performance runs with silent voice
The curtain falls without a choice

The show will run it's hollow course
The musty stage shows no remorse

I see my coffee just out of reach
A broken leg that binds my feet
My hot and steamy morning treat
No ocean near but ain't life a beach

This prose imposed not to impress.
An invitation is all
My formal request
To comment in time
With no judgement call
To enjoy all your poems
At my beck and call.