Jim van den Bos
They sprayed her with champagne when she stepped off
Her wig hanging in the backstage walkway, dripping
The spotlight reflecting on the leftover glitters
Her heels ran enough shows
Now she is only called he, in the unspotlighted normal life
Across sidewalks, His strutting still ever so lightly
The songs and cheers echo in his mind
The silence is left, he is left pondering
When out, They light up when he acts like she sometimes
Her jokes and wit celebrated across the bar
The memory of her presence is relived
But he knows, That show is over
The confidence he learned will always prevail
Even now when the ankles cannot handle heels anymore
The coiffed head of hair doesn’t need the wig
Just like his person doesn’t need the persona anymore
Spotlight or streetlight
He is he, and he is proud of who she was.