Julian Wanted It Played Again

Here’s what I know of it,
That on an evening’s night
My nephew saw a play
When he was young
And sat through with impatience 
Until the end,
And when it was done,
This very strange musical,
He wanted it played again.

Now, 
In that moment 
It did not matter
Where the story began,
And that memory will endure
Long after my fresh experiences 
With those books fade again.

Although,
To be fair,
Nothing could be more clear,
However off the rhyme inferred;
Very little possible 
Could erase them from the stage,
Now that their words
Have so happily settled.

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