As the curtains splendidly rise,
I come before your sight,
You lay your gaze on me
I mistake it for amity.
I twirl around the stage,
And I see your gaze follow my trace,
irredeemably deluded,
I believe to be blessed.
At the penultimate spin,
I gaze into your eyes
And I thus commit the sin,
The sin of affair de couer.
Alas! Reality beckons
and I exit the stage letdown.
The curtains then close mundanely
And so wanes the man's sobriety
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Author Notes
The inspiration for this poem came from Edgar Degas's paintings.
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