The Circus
Too many men maneuver around adorning faces of black
Miming emotions of catatonic consequences
Masquerading around in their bodies of lies
Putting on a happy face for the unsuspecting
Condemning their love with their magnificent smiles
Drawn to the faces of black like a moth to a flame
Accepting that the allure promises certain demise
The pain will subside as long as the music keeps playing and the lights keep flashing
Those mindless sheep will keep clapping
Professing their undying love for the men who continue to hide their faces
Pretty little women play hide and seek with their own reflections
Transcending time and spaces
Falling down flights of insecurities
Living unfulfilled lives with no immediate direction
Mesmerized by the show being performed by these men
Cloaked in deceit and robbed of their desire to love
Hand in hand they spin around
Until their world of make believe comes tumbling down
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