The desolate theater had once been a palace,
but now citizens of the town look upon it with open distaste and malice.
Rotting inside and out, the building was falling into shambles,
they, the citizens, talk in rambles.
They want it gone; they want it no more.
Decades before the theater had once been the town's core,
but the people thought not of it's history, thought not of the long-ago yesterdays,
it was now the twenty-first century. Brush aside the old; it's time for new ways.
So plans were made, and the people that would commit the horrendous deed were called
upon;
the big man said, "We'll be there at the break of dawn."
The next morning, as the jaws of death rolled in, the citizens stood around in a crowd,
not ashamed of the act that would soon commence, they all stood proud.
And when the engines were revved by the destruction crew,
the crowd erupeted into cheers that only grew and grew.
But just as the cheers rose to a deafening height,
the zealous crowd became audibly silent, as quick as turning on or off a light.
For here came forth a man in tails, top hat, and with a cane tapping; keeping time.
When he reached the front, he turned toward the crowd, and with baffling simplicity said,
"You're commiting a crime."
From somewhere out in the crowd a voice arose, "This is our town, we'll do what we please. What do you know?"
His eyes grew soft, and a knowing smile curved his lips. He whispered, "Come, follow me. Let me put on a show."
Without saying another word, he turned and walked into the once-upon-a-time palace,
they followed suit as though in a trance, this crowded epitome of callous.
And when they stepped inside,
all feelings of old discrimination and hate for the theater were put aside.
The theater that'd been destroyed and rotting inside as it'd once been before,
was no more--it'd been restored.
The seats that had been ripped and torn,
sat right side up reborn.
And oh! the stage!
The curtain open, the boards all replaced, it shined as though it were brand new--and the
entire crowd knew that they were no sage.
And there--the old hoofer from the Golden Age,
stood upon the brand renewed stage.
The scene was set; the props were all in place,
all were beautiful and elegant, but chaste.
A gasp was heard, and then a "Look over there!"
Set off to the side, a large band of musicians sat with their instruments, sweet musical
notes began to fill the air.
But that was not all,
for coming from the side doors, men and women all dressed as one would in the olden
days, came in from the hall.
The men wore ties, bow and some not.
The women wore furs, pearls and diamonds--what surpise they all brought.
Fascinated eyes all watched as the forgotten people took their seats.
The crowd's hearts were beginning to dangerously skip beats.
Then the strange man whom stood upon the stage, held up his cane in one hand,
and motioning for the band, the music began.
The spot lights went dim,
and away went the man's loose limbs!
His feet were like the wind, so quick and smooth.
It was apparent that the man enjoyed what he did, an obvious groove.
The taps of his shoes went across the stage: tippity tap, clickity clack.
He swayed, he bent, he twirled and jumped--the good times were back.
They all cheered, present and past when he came to a finish.
He gave a deep bow, smiled and raised his hand, accepting the praise. Breathing heavily,
excitedly, he said, "Thank you, thank you." And there things began to diminish.
The people in thir seats began to fade away like mist,
the band disappeared, the seats returned to their unholy state; all that was new went away, in wisps.
The song and dance man only remained, but not even he did for long.
"You saw what was once the past, a part of this town's history. You saw how sweet it was, like a melody in a song.
This will forever stay in your mind and heart.
Don't let this memory go stale, or become lost within you. Don't let it go bitter and tart."
And with those last words hanging in the air,
he tapped his cane to his hat in salute, and was gone; the theater lost its glow and once
again became desolate and bare.
The Song and Dance Man Himself.
Photo Courtesy of http://www.swungover.wordpress.com/
