Masquerade

When the lights are turned off
You wipe the makeup off your face
The heels are packed safely in a box

They take away all the classy clothes
The face you were for a momentary flash
And you wear those ballerinas
The hood covering your face from the cold
Walk past the roads, the ones you have known

Now do they know who you are?
The stories you’ve heard and seen so far
The glitters look all gold in the photograph
But eye to eye fake they are

They light with the camera flash
And then disappear in the dark
The masquerade is over now.

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