We are entertainers.
Performers, actors, players, and liars;
stars of our own stage and screen.
The show must go on.
We wear our costumes.
Our hair and makeup, just so.
We hit our marks and
speak our lines.
The show must go on.
The lights are bright and glaring.
They give off the odor of heat.
The stage is what we make of it -
solid wood or flimsy balsa.
The show must go on.
We hope fellow actors can
remember their lines and
make their entrance and exit
in proper time.
We dread any techies missing their cues -
losing a spotlight or botching the music.
Or even a fixture falling onstage with a crash.
The show must go on.
And what if someone drops dead
during a scene?
It happens, at times.
Should the show go on?
And what if a scene causes brawling in the crowd,
and some are taken outside to calm down?
It happens, at times.
The show must go on.
At the end of the show, we strip off the fake.
We greet the audience who want a stake
in knowing a thespian of their own.
They don’t see our real person within.
We are entertainers.
Performers, actors, players, and liars;
stars of our own stage and screen.
The show must go on.
The show will always go on.
©Ellen Pepper 2026