The ideal of beauty and joy was she
Charming she was as ever could be
Curled hairs with wavy locks hither
Straightened strands on the days other
Powdered Brushes across her skin smooth
Lustrous glosses on lips to tempt youth
One on the other dresses red and peach
Fancied jewels hanging to suit them each

How pretty her body the world say
Knowing not the pain of her role play
Varied scents of glamour was her smell
Pain of stilettoes in feet was a spell
Controlled diets of no candy sweets
Ceaseless miming of voice tweets
In vain was some of her workouts daily
Sometimes called was too thin or curvy

Tired of fake smiles to please the parade
Tears she cried behind her masquarade
Bottled up with her own gloomy tragedy
Wondered she how to overcome her misery
None could help to make her world merry
Herself alone had to make the choice very
Whether to tear apart her veil of beauty
Or else to carry on in her wail of beauty.

Co-director(Special Events): Rtr. Mihiravi Gunasekara