No Me

She thinks to herself
As she walks into the room
With a trophy man
Falling into his hands
You don't know me
None of you do
How I really think
And what is just the act
What is really seen
Just a mirage
There is no me
She thinks while enjoying the charade
Marching to her own parade
Where she's least likely
To really be seen
Is out in public
Out of the shade