They fuck you up, these stagey types,
With their dilemmas and their gripes.
They kiss you to pretend they care,
Their "Darling!" greetings , just hot air.
But they were fucked up in their turn,
By castings that ignored them all
And crits who tore their work to shreds
And set them up to watch them fall.
These stageys are a fatuous bunch,
To promote themselves, their only will.
They'll sting you for a pricey lunch
And never once pick up the bill.
With apologies to Philip Larkin's This Be The Verse
And thanks to Michael Webborn , for inspiration and content!
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