Song of Myself

July 25, 2011
By Anonymous

Seasons slipping through the trees,
She’s introducing nothing near the truth.
Trip the light fantastic,
Sip the flask of trouble,
Dip your toes in the luxury, the silks, the models, the VIP rooms, the dancers, thexclusivityes, the mood alterers, the black ties.
Holding the hand of opulence,
We skip along the sea,
Fancy dancing fills the shore line.
Rainbow skies fills my mushroom ivory painted eyes.
Like an award wining flim,
Everyone is winning from her success
but she ends up alone,
When her little white friend wanders the sky.
Glitter doesn’t shine near as bright at night.
In Venus’ shadows her hands left empty.
Her pillow will be the only chest to feel moving,
But that glitter will shine again in sun rise.

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