Lost

Lost


The role of the victim,
she plays it so well.
The lines taken from
the walls of her cell.

The lights on the stage,
the sparkling dress.
The music drowns out
the fear and distress.

Life always goes on
like a runaway train.
No scheduled stops,
only tunnels of pain.

Going round and round,
on her private carousel.
There's no brass ring,
only demons from hell.

An "A" ticket ride.
Can't feel the floor.
Can't get off.
Can't find the door.

When the music stops,
and there's no more applause.
The people have gone
she's all alone, lost.