“It wasn’t pure, it never was’”
she whispered in anger, in sadness,
as she dipped her eyeliner brush
and swirled it above her face
in a wistful parasail ballet,
the black lines dancing
a graphic curve as her eyes
longed to flutter a monarch path.

Sadly, the stage was dark
the performance over, fans gone away
and all that remained of the years
was the face cream and cloth
as she wiped it all away,
the plot fading under
the prima’s tears and the words
she could only mouth silently
as she replayed her final bow.


Report Story

byMungoParkIII© 4 comments/ 7808 views/ 0 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

1 Pages:1

Please Rate This Submission:

Please Rate This Submission:

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Please wait
by Anonymous

If the above comment contains any ads, links, or breaks Literotica rules, please report it.

There are no recent comments (4 older comments) - Click here to add a comment to this poem or Show more comments or Read All User Comments (4)

Add a

Post a public comment on this submission (click here to send private anonymous feedback to the author instead).

Post comment as (click to select):

Refresh ImageYou may also listen to a recording of the characters.

Preview comment

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: