Every Night I lay awake
thinking of art
that I could make.
Movement flowing through my veins
concepts turning in my brain.
Costumes, props, music, and sets
one thought done and on to the next.
The thinking takes over
it's like a disease
although the goal is not to please.
To stir thought, feelings
good or bad.
if you remember my name
then I'll be glad.
When I finally dream the thoughts go away
and the creations transform
into a different array.
Bolder, grander
more and more
so the next nights thoughts
become the dreams from before.
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