A rush, panic
nothing calm or sure
as if we hadn't done this ten,
twenty, thirty times before and
now a prop's missing
a line's dropped
but no-one let on,
the show musn't stop
for our touch-ups of makeup to
make us look worn
a fake limp - a real one,
a tired shirt torn,
coins on the table,
ribbon in my hair,
waistcoat, tie, jacket and
a deadly stare - there's
no time to wallow
in success or mistake
the stage is a world
and we only get one take.