.She masks it under her mask.

Under those powdered white cheeks,
Lay that young girl,
At the street corner,
In her humble sanctuary
Under the sparrow’s nest
Who would watch the sky in hope of a drop of rain.

She would dream of clouds,
Of monsoon,
Of puddles,
Among the giant craters in the ground below her tiny,
Precious feet.

Eyes wide open,
And fixated upon the screeching sunlit sky,
Waiting, watching, waiting, watching
She would fail, yet never sigh.

The past would call out louder,
But the present would deafen it.
The embraced symphonies of the past,
Would be overtaken by the cacophonies of reality.
The screams, the terrors, the ordeals.
Her smile would now fade.

She would turn back to becoming that doll
The one with powdered, white cheeks and red lips
The smile of an empress,
The smile for the millions
Yet the mask would hide,
Yet the mask would mask,
That permanent frown, the frown of a courtesan,
Never witnessed by a layman.