Her life is a stage,

Wearing all faces but her own,

Afraid that once she plays her real part,

She’ll find herself alone.


She stands in the spotlight,

Acting the part,

And she lets a facade fall,

To hide her broken heart.


The theater is about humor,

And love and tragedy,

“I can escape from my problems,”

She once told me.


But how is it escaping,

Hiding it all beneath a mask or act,

Pretending that her heart is whole,

And not cracked?


The theater is her home,

Where she acts the part,

Pretending to be someone else,

Without a broken heart.


One day I hope she will tell me,

Who broke her heart in pieces,

But kept the biggest part,

To call his.







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