An actor dies in New York every day
And leaves no more or less than any man;
Remembered for the roles he once portrayed
By family, colleagues, and his ardent fans.
An actor died in New York yesterday,
Who with his presence stage and film had graced,
And while we mourn his loss, we yet betray
An underlying sentiment of waste.
The shadows swallowed yet another light,
And for its lack, the firmament is dimmed.
He walked a long day’s journey into night,
The undertaking proved much for him.
Within addiction’s greater tragedy,
His passing marks the climax of Act III.
Requiescat in pace
Philip Seymour Hoffman