so graceful in her entirety
yet, she's shrouded every night.
unappreciated by all
her job is more than to give us light
she balances the waves
from high tide to low
singing the songs of the galaxies
all while maintaining her glow
every night is a facade
the same recycled from her past
waning, quarter, crescent
each a different woman from the last
but after performing for a while
she gets a sense they aren't useful
but when she reveals her true self
there's no one there to say she's beautiful
people walk all over her
whilst showing no appreciation
not for the light nor lullaby
eternally fueling her frustration
she needs a vacation
an escape from the damnation
rather, she needs salvation
she needs to feel that elation
so now tides are fucked up
the moon light is too bright
she wants to end her existence
but she can't seem to drive through the knife
but she's bound in the sky
by the gravitational pull
of hardship and self loathing
a life way too cruel
she realizes she can't quit
and hopes for better tomorrows
she puts her mask back on
effectively shrouding her sorrows
she begins her ballerina once more
emotionally mortified
she just wishes she would be loved for
her high tide lullaby
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