For Working Class

After the show, once the chairs thin, once laughter
dies down and nerves slow, lines spoke, once the disguise
and gear has been thrown off, even just standing

in the parking lot, you know within
space you have slowed time, that you’ve replaced,
for brief, the hope drained by days, restored
steam to ages ago dreams.

http://www.workingclasstheatre.net

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Author:

A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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