A rusty drunk of a man staggered on stage and cleared his smoke filled lungs and spluttered and muttered , Tarquin the name and most people know me from old money now lame. The audience gasp and muttered in shamed for this was a whale in time gone by.
you see he was a play write now a drunk and pennyless muttering his written verse to an audience of like minded drunks for he had a hunger for people to love him. But what he thought was fellowship unfortunately was more to laughing at him.
They watch in horror as his act unfollded making no sense, incorherent with a few mutters of once masterful words, that used to hold audiences in the 10000s now only a few scattered pub revellers.
How the mighty fall and their shadows shudder and shake their heads in shame of fall. Wishing someone would give that fraid plug the pull.
Ruined and penniless but the passion is still there never the less. Maybe a slightly twinkle of light in the end of this endless tunnel.
©benfish41
B