See her dance,

And hear her laugh;

See her spin

On a shapely calf;

The mask she holds

Within her hand

Hides the past

Of a broken woman

Though all the world

Is allowed only to see

Her smile and step and twirl;

They revere her grace

And praise her appearance,

And all the gentleman

Line up for the next dance;

Yet, secretly she thinks

She would rather be alone

Where she could shield

Herself from the chandelier’s light

And slip into the darkness,

A bitter creation all her own;

Though, this masquerade allows

No such place or pause,

And so she is forced to dance

And accept the shallow applause.

See her dance,

But hear not her sigh;

Look to the embellished mask,

But see not the crystal tear

Behind the satin she cries.