Glad I found this thread... I'll throw something of my own in...
After the final curtain falls on the last performance of a long-standing and popular engagement,
The Actor kneels backstage and listens as the applause die out and the hall empties.
The silence envelops him as he removes his top hat and white gloves, and places them neatly on his mark.
He had given his life to the show, and the show, in turn, had given him a new life.
For so many years he played a character, he had adapted his life to that role, become that character.
Now the show is over, and he must find a way to forget that character, to divest himself of that role.
He says a prayer and sheds a tear, and with a sigh, he trudges back to his rooms.
He removes his costume, dresses, and dons his own old coat and hat,
But he does not attend the party – somehow a celebration doesn't seem fitting.
After starring on Broadway for so many years, it is difficult to return to the footlights, to seek out a new role.
Some of the old cast remains, but the stage has changed, and the story is a lonely one.
The dressing rooms, too, seem less comfortable, less familiar, and altogether less welcoming to him.
He drives by the old hall on occasion, where so recently he was welcomed, cheered, even revered.
He wonders if the cast that plays there now appreciates that old hall the way he does, he assumes they do not.
For too often we do not realize how special these things are until they are gone from us.