the black mirror on the great white way
is dark and transparent, as the curtain ascends
it is a red rich blood velvet that determines the soul
baby snooks and flappers dominate the stage
she must make i t past the the reflection if she dare try to stay
floating through the dancers, competition dwells in the din
step, turn, 3, 4, memorize the cloy
you sweep past the rest, deceiving there eyes
redeeming the rest, your self confidence drops
mask yourself in triumph- so they can't see within
your stratosphere dreams dangle in there hands
temperament under glasses, they hold a fine tip pen
your beads pulled and stockings ripped
you are none to give the chance your all
feeling the spotlight around you- kiss the stage, blow the man