SILHOUETTE

She hides herself behind her shadow
Under filthy and smoky canopy
Cold as the night, dark as ebony
Praised by many, known by few.

Laughter and cheers and yells and whistles:
Laurel wreath from public accolades;
Touch and hold and hugs and kisses:
Ardent game played by heedless heads.

She’s her own fame, low price for a shame!
Apple of the eye that lasts overnight.
Most wanted with a borrowed name—
A Magdalene to blind’s sight.

Thicker, darker clouds gather above.
Fading glow she has learned to love
Silence is broken at midnight’s passing—
Tomorrow, she’s forgotten.

© Gheeneil

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