Mistress seems strange,
Taught to read lines,
A voice, practiced, undermines
A mistake, replaced, small change,
Out of Their pockets into silver sockets that
Shine when it Rains.

She's under a roof,
Need not,
want not,
the handful of proof,
That when the crowd gets loud,
They paint her Red,
But the Stage paints her White.

Mistress seems different,
Trained to believe, to perform,
Playing the part was significant.
Ignore the cracks,
a pleased crowd comes back and
She'll get her pay, so long as
She sticks to the way she was raised.

She found the trapdoor.
It led to the boy whose fingers
Were scored from
Scripts he'd never written.
He spoke off cue,
though she thought him kind,
There was salt in his wounds.

He capsized the boat.
A stage that'd been sailing,
but barely afloat.

Mistress is gone.
Her life turned around,
As she took the hand of the boy,
who promised she wouldn't drown.