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self hate

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

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