A black cane

The curtains open hush decends
The make up caked
Expectation its butterflies
like acoustics rise and fall
An odd trainer left on the stairs
The school sachels already full
Bickering over corn and coco pops
The last to don a baseball cap
 Vodka bottle that's hidden by detergents
Take a seat but is it comedy or drama
The one hander you starred and wrote
Tidy mothers cards still all on the sideboard
Kind words cant plaster pain
Smiling, sinking, screaming
The padded duvet of the Ironing room
No muster quell that claustrophobia
And drink through that trapdoor
To see an enchore bow and scrape
Tap a black cane
Turn a blind eye that you cant cope
On the roundabout that show
That must go on
Weak spirit that is 100 proof
Wears a brown paper Sunday suit
The actors changing roles
The billboard sees not, the empty stalls