Come one...Come all
To the greatest show in history
As she walks the narrow way
to find the missing part
she searches high and low
But the farther she goes,
the deeper she bleeds
Her blind fold is bounded tightly around
her faded brown eyes
Her jacket hugs her arms,as she roams
Her bare feet,so she feels the cold tiles under
her feet
She finds her dressing room
Bare and empty...
Only her bed gives her comfort,
as her show comes to an end
Her assistants come to give her,
her nightly cotail of sleeping pills and orange juice
She takes a bow,the curtains falls
They clap as they exit her mental thearter
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