I survey the rubble of what used to be —
the old majestic theater where we bared our souls
and were revered by young and old.
I await the Fire Marshall
gripped by pain and sorrow
crying inside for the treasures
we have lost — the costumes and memorabilia —
photographs and play books.
Charred years of history and memories
whisked away by fire and hoses.
I sigh as I wade through this wasteland
and plan — to begin again.