Hiding behind the mask of imperfection.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The life of a makeup artist from my eyes.

Another piece i wrote for a project.

Submitted: March 25, 2008

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Submitted: March 25, 2008

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Traveling around,
not knowing where the wind will take me.
Can't settle down, there is no way of finding me.

Helping people hide behind a mask they will never keep.
Blocking their sight of imperfections that lie upon their faces.
They are slowly falling down a hill that is extremely steep.

I just work, and bide by their will.
I can't just stand around all day, like a statue, still.
The color, the rouge, the liner and all,
makes them look ready for a masquerade ball.

Traveling around,
not knowing where the wind will take me.
Can't settle down, there is no way of finding me.

Flawa cause the world to change in
a way it wouldn't have before.
I try to prevent that from happening,
I open another door.

Helping people hide behind a mask they will never keep.
Blocking their sight of imperfections that lie upon their faces.
They are slowly falling down a hill that is extremely steep.


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