Lost Vegas Poem by Gracey Newman

On the edge of the lost.
In Vegas, In vegas I drink too much.
Like the rest I sip and fall.
I stand up close and personal,
close and personal with the dead.

Im on the edge now
On the edge of reason
In a city that never sleeps.
I''m in a dream, I will never wake up.

Behind the mask are smeared mascara drops.
Behind the mask and the charade of colour.
Behind the mask holds another girl.
Another girl lost