Drop it, mate. Just drop it! Drop the act. The audience has gone, the theatre's closing. Get back to the dressing room and change - No! Don't change, just take the costume off And hang it up behind the door.
Outside the theatre it's useless- Prince Hal buying beans in the late shop, Cleopatra tucking children into bed, Madam Bovary putting out the bins.
You got the house and set the stage Brought on the family and dressed them in their parts, Planned out the series, Laid the clues for story lines to come, Dropped hints, blocked routes, built tension as The plot evolved and let the story board grow legs.
It walks away and sometimes backwards, looking backwards To the previous acts. Draws different pictures from the plans And looks back past the plans To the producer and director Asking why? And How? And 'What's my motivation?'