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Astraea Apr 2016
An actor is a clean slate
White as paper, lying in wait
For a pencil tip to grace its surface
Draw alive a story, giving chase

An actor is a full glass of water
Blocking to memorize, lines to remember
Brimming with character pride
Never pausing, never breaking stride

These are the things they tell us to do
But behind every actor, there's a person too
A person with their own stories to tell
With their own emotions they will befell

An actor can be a sly, cunning liar
Or can be called out for having his pants on fire
For this actor isn't acting, but merely himself
Any role he holds is packed up, resting on a shelf

An actor cries onstage
Bravo, some roses, a round of applause
An actor cries offstage
Tissue, a hug, don't even pause

Never accuse an actor
Of crocodile tears and cries
Every actor has a heart and mind
Just like anyone, you and I

Acting is a skill, you see
One I tend to sometimes hide
For I've been questioned if I lie
I am good at improvise

— The End —