A graceful curtsey and a ready smile to show a pompous crowd,
eyes lowered for a moment amidst the gala's noise.
They - looking on - adored the little act,
but what they neglected to see was the cracks inside of her.
The ever-growing screams clawed incessantly at her -
stripping her, abusing her, weakening her mind -
leaving only a fragile child behind a silver mask.
She walked through the crowd, greeting guests of varied natures,
speaking with sweet eloquence, as custom daily taught her.
She looked into their clueless eyes filled with other things,
yet behind her eyes lay secrets that she'd quietly confined -
the innocent face, the natural presence - all to hide the truth.
This was not pleasant, not even a little bit.
She was simply enduring the charade behind her silver mask.
She was invited to join a ballroom dance,
and took the gloved hand extended to her.
She danced fluidly across the floor, but she'd done this all before,
showing no hint of breaking, no disappointment - only a smile.
Back straight, she looked at the man who held her with ease.
His lips curved up at each corner; he looked directly in her face,
and she wondered if the upper class were genuinely real.
They behaved like people being pulled by marionette strings -
moving when they should, stopping where they should.
They did pretty well... but wasn't she like them,
appearing quite content when in fact she was not.
The dance ended. She curtsied and he bowed.
She then walked out to the garden and along a little path,
where she sat upon a swing hanging between two birch trees.
She looked down at her expensive gown decorated with jewels.
The dress was pretty, the makeup well done,
but her heart was troubled; her mind now full,
yet she welcomed the peace the wind seemed to bring.
It almost looked as if it was blowing her worries away,
making way for peace to comfortably settle in.
She took off the mask for a while so she could be herself.