The Mask.

To Rafat, never stop being crazy.

Her mask of happiness

Is starting to melt

The stars in her eyes

Are losing their twinkle

And her crown of flowers

Is withering and dying.

Her sorrow, is beginning

To drip, through

The cracks in her lips

And, loneliness

Has begun to fall out

Every time she laughs.

Her eyes have become cages

And, a waterfall

Of memories

Are escaping through

The bars of the cages.

The green leaves

On the tips of her fingers

Are turning brown

And crumbling to dust

And her twinkling gown

Has turned into

Rags made of heartache.

Her ruby encrusted slippers

No longer fit

And her diamond studded earrings

Are nowhere to be found.

Her mask of happiness

Has slipped away

And, like Cinderella at midnight

She became

Her sad old self once again.

---

-The Girl Lost In The Bookstore