A Thespian's Despair

Lying supine in that asphalt surface, Distraught, gazing at the night’s astral sky, Melancholy, tears streaming down your face Along with raindrops, falling from up high. Standing up, finally your first motion. Drenched wholly, are you cleansed of that sadness? No, crestfallen remains your expression, Pondering profoundly of that mistress Who crushed your heart, although proved imminent. Dangerous, you knew this venture defined. Foolish you acted, now shows prominent As you stay sentimentally ruptured. Woeful and pitiable now art thou. Player, it’s over; quit and make a bow.