Everytime I ask her, why all the act?
She just flips her hair and moves back
Only to come back and put up
Just another show of hers

She was not entirely a bad person
Just someone in a bad story
There was no good light in it,
Nor the music backed the scenes

Sometimes she tries to dance
To the songs with her swaying fingers
And occasionally,
Struggles to act up the scenes
To Bring some sense to it

And the play always fails
But she was a good actor

Because the act was so good,
So good,
That the audience thought that's who she is,
There a hopeless romantic
Here a woman with no feelings
There a trustworthy friend
Here a total wreck of a person
And on it goes

Once the show ends,
No one knows where she goes,
No one knows who's there at her home,
Or if she even has a home
No one tries
And no one did