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�clat
the limelight lusts for longlasting loveliness
but passes through the air in patches of smoke
as we inhale the lingering stale inspiration
that stains our smiles with convictions
from opinions of an audience
an audience of crows and grackles heckling in unison
clapping, laughing, disenchanting when the light is on
crying, lying, unrelying when attention doesn't grab them
the product of an amalgamate
sticking to exoskeletal-like carapace skin
of the starving artists shrugging off the obscene comments
grinning for a few compliments
they can't get without the effort
without putting themselves on the pedestel of watchers
who blind with censored indiscretions
await the next attempt at catching their attention
enveloping shrewd fear in the hearts of some
whose passion is now unveiled and naked for the crowd
the stage a gate to the next destination
the face of an assessment guides them
arbitrarily deciding where they will be placed next
the democratic drove fleeting with caprice content
