Come, enter into a forbidden world.
Truly, a most exclusive club.
Where membership is for the elite,
And ill-gotten coins do rub.

Faces painted as ****** masques,
To hide those lying eyes.
Promises made, but unfulfilled.
Trapped in a perfect guise.

Smoke-filled rooms, behind closed doors.
Not knowing with whom they slept.
Strangers meet from time to time.
Not caring of tears that wept.

Lives entangled, integrity lost.
The stench of perfume clouds the air.
Trust obsolete, what can we do?
Our very souls lay bare.

Shadowed eyes to draw one in.
Honey falls from puckered lips.
Hands clasp and arms embrace,
Crimson vows so rancidly drips.

With breathless anticipation.
We dare the ****** a second glance.
It's election time, oh, who to choose?
As politicians begin their Poll Dance.
Deb Nixon