Lonely

Planting herself on a dark corner seat, There but out of the way, Unseen by the suave cosmopolitan crowd, Invisible and not on display, And she talks with her one and only lonely best friend, A friend who follows her smell, Her friend who knows how she feels deep inside, Her friend who lives in her hell, About the words she’ll utter to the next smiling face, “Hi, I’m good, I feel great”, How she’ll grin and nod and pretend all is good, Her forlorn friend will help her create, This mask she puts on when she cannot relate, This mask that acts like her cage, That hides how lonely she is every day, Every day she performs on this stage.