They called her Luna the Lovely,
Because the moon leaned her way,
The audience loved her,
She was star of the play.
Her smile - sly and practiced,
Each gesture precise,
Men would be smitten,
When she batted her eyes.
But the years have been drumming,
At their soft, steady pace.
Each night in her room,
As she puts on her face.
She stretches, she squints.
In the mirror once more,
And remembers the face
of the girl she once wore.
Because the moon leaned her way,
The audience loved her,
She was star of the play.
Her smile - sly and practiced,
Each gesture precise,
Men would be smitten,
When she batted her eyes.
But the years have been drumming,
At their soft, steady pace.
Each night in her room,
As she puts on her face.
She stretches, she squints.
In the mirror once more,
And remembers the face
of the girl she once wore.



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