He carried the pistol upon the stage
and spoke a line not on the page—
“For years I’ve been but scripted lies,”
he announced, tears rolling from his eyes.
“No more! If I cannot live as I wish…”
Someone booed before he could finish.
He scowled, keeping the pistol where it was held,
but then—“Melodrama!” someone yelled.
Pulling the trigger, his brains blew out
as the stage manager began to shout.
The audience screamed and fled the lobby
except for a couple, both jaded and snobby.
“What a tonedeaf final act,” the husband snorted.
“The whole play should have been aborted.”
“His theatrics were overblown,” the wife said.
“He always let feelings go to his head.”

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