The beads are falling
Off the string,
And I can't find them,
But it's not my fault.
The courtyard jester cries,
Tears streaking her painted-on mask.
She's exposed.
I don't want this,
I don't.
Pass me the white cream.
Pass me the black eyeliner.
Cover me up,
What I don't want you to see,
Cover it up.
Behind green and hazel
Is a sad little girl
Lost
Inside herself.
Trapped behind the cracked mirror
No one to take her hand.
No one to bring her home.
Just a broken little jester doll
That no one wants to play with,
Sitting alone on the shelf
Collecting dust.