glass slippers
lost forever
in a world where
no one sings
no one dares
and no one dreams
only puppets
ride their strings

hiding faces
without traces
of a single blemish
or anguish
****** like walls
stemmed from calls
of unproductive falls

shapes and sizes
epitomizes
love so lost
to hate embossed
wary a world where
trust would die
consumed into ashes
where heroes
once lie

faced by reality
without the possibility
of ever having tranquility
is a sad feasibility
in this ever-growing incredibility
of a world without sound durability

must i go on with my mockery
or shall i show you reversibility
continuing this charade of nobility
we are but dust in anonymity