She hid beneath a thousand masks
But none of them were real
Her qualms and anxiety slowly revealed
Her image so vital to the outside world
Figure face and beauty of paramount appeal
Her mirror a refection of what to her was real
Her fixation and obsession was the norm
Consumed was she by her own distinct form
She preened and observed her own flawless face
Not comprehending that she couldn’t keep pace
The masks they dissipated as the fury set in
Dazed and confused, she just couldn’t win
Authenticity and fantasy swiftly combined
Shocked and enraged her true psyche bare
Father time sat there laughing, he couldn’t care.
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