Washed Your Hands Of This

discarded sink in New York City's theater district

You finally made it to Broadway,

Wearing costumes you made at home.

But everyone knew you were acting,

And now you’re all alone.

The summer heat felt like applause,

Ovations of sweat and lust.

Your dreams became your reality,

But a reality you couldn’t trust. 

Now the book has no character for you,

And your life story forgot how to act.

And the ghost lamp of your dreams,

Has gone completely black.

So Broadway dumped you in the trash, 

With the heroine needles and piss.

And from behind the closed curtains,

You washed your hands of this. 

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