Once protected by camera lens,
Her soul was intact, mind could think.
But was it real among staged friends?
Or was it all an act, as pure as nothing?
She has hope. She wants to believe.
But no one knows the depth of her grief.
Now box is open. She can hide no more.
Her heart was always broken. Shards on the floor.
Ruby red from sorrows that have bled.
Out of shape like a Picasso on the bed.
She is staring at it. It’s fading in the rain.
Pick up the pieces. Fight for happiness once again.