Reality some call it
\nA socialite we hear
\nA manufactured entity
\nFrom the television sphere
\nHer armchair audience
\nFed on lots of TV meals
\nOn expanding laps
\nKind of wish for what she has
\nThe kind of living raps<\/p>\n
She finds herself immersed in
\nKanye and the mob
\nOut on social media
\nAnd on Instagram
\nEach bob
\nAnd weave through the effusive froth of life
\nSurfaces and she
\nUses the glitz and glamour
\nIn the hope she can break free<\/p>\n
Her fragrances her boutique shops
\nHer fortune in quick time
\n53 million dollars
\nIt’s been a steady climb
\nDespite all of her successes
\nFur still seems to be
\nNeeded to wrap around her body
\nThe death trade yes it be<\/p>\n
Part of her whole makeup
\nShe could have come to terms
\nWith the animals she murders
\nOr their coats covered in worms
\nWere it not for the chemicals
\nFor the curing and the rest
\nLike many manufactured women
\nShe doesn’t pass our test<\/p>\n
Her gluttony for publicity
\nIs clearly causing pain
\nBeing rich and famous
\nGets her treated with disdain
\nIt’s really awfully vulgar
\nTo witness as we do
\nThe ugliness of beauty
\nUnlimited right through<\/p>\n
She has become a victim
\nAs conscience slipped away
\nIt happens to the best of us
\nIt’s shameful in a way
\nPulled into the chasm
\nOf resentment and the rest
\nThe opportunistic world of fashion
\nThat will always test<\/p>\n
The flattery and adulation
\nBound to come your way
\nIs rapidly absorbed in grief
\nAnd lustre and a day
\nWill come when theatricality
\nWill catch up Yes it will
\nUnfortunately it happens to the best
\nAnd it’s no thrill<\/p>\n
Then it’s exaggeration and showmanship
\nAnd more
\nGaudiest and glitter
\nRhetoric for sure
\nRising out of nowhere
\nInto millions in the bank
\nAll eyes on you forever
\nAnd as to where you rank<\/p>\n
In everybody’s thoughts of you
\nThough many do not know
\nThey may have heard your name somewhere
\nIt came up in the flow
\nIn the plethora of fullness
\nIn some moment of desire
\nIn the appetite of everything
\nIn the lovelessness of Fire<\/p>\n
To wear the skin of others
\nSo brashly without thought
\nI feel somewhat dejected
\nBy the spirit she has caught
\nThat net of woven ugliness
\nShe drapes her body in
\nThe total denunciation
\nThe travesty of sin<\/p>\n
A name really to juggle with
\nFor me I cannot say
\nI ever think about what she
\nHas got along the way
\nTrials and tribulations
\nCome to those who seek
\nSpotlights always on them
\nAnd paparazzi speak
\nFor me she isn’t worthy
\nAn artificial who
\nPlays the tables well enough
\nBut clearly is askew<\/p>\n
She could stand up and say aloud
\nFur is not for me
\nThe lambs that watch her every move
\nMight then agree to be
\nFree of fur forever
\nAnd In that light of day
\nShe could do something worthy
\nFor the animals who play<\/p>\n
A part in all her being
\nThey all seeing
\nHave become
\nVictims of her need let’s say
\nThey help to bang her drum
\nWearing skins of others
\nWho sacrifice for you
\nNot because they had too
\nOr they wanted to
\nBut because you wanted their skin
\nAll that blood and gore
\nWas cleaned away you never saw
\nIt dripping on the floor<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Reality some call it A socialite we hear A manufactured entity From the television sphere Her armchair audience Fed on lots of TV meals On expanding laps Kind of wish for what she has The kind of living raps She … Continue reading