Circumstances are just the setting,
Emotions just the lighting,
Faces just props,
Just until the curtains drop.

After the show,
Walls fall like domino,
One after another,
Acts falter.

Behind all the glamour,
Are mazes of sewer,
The stench of rotting fish,
Is for them, the taste of wine they relish.

Gowns and suits,
They’re all still a bunch of brutes,
Don’t be fooled by how they look,
They hide their filth in every nook.

FOR SALE: imported handicrafts