fly by me

in the early stages of this thing

who knew all the sacrifices that would be

dealt like a stack of cards?

who knew hearts and feelings would and could be

Broken over and over and yet somebody told you

that life and the show must go on?

who painted a picture and wanted

you to examine it all frame, by frame

but the drawings weren't all finished

neither was the character that was created

on the spot

like a Bird off to the next sky way