My benign inner bean is a vegetable green
In a dark shadow casing that likes to wave “Hi”
On a stage to the people for whom which it knows
Not enough about drama nor how to compose
The best score for a stunning performance. I try
To upstage it so that it can seldom be seen.

That is not a nice habit. My bean deserves light.
That is what it is made of. It takes nothing less
Than to be seen in brilliance when happy or sad.
Yet the inner bean knows naught of good nor of bad.
I have treated mine wrongly, and I must confess
That I have a strong focus, now, on what is right.

I must let my good bean to direct every scene
In this life given to me and through me from me
As my inner bean knows what it is I desire
It damned well can direct me that I may acquire
Some experience acting and learning ‘to be’
In a non-ending playbill upon the grand screen.