Made to Fade

Life ceases to exist when talentless twits are given clout
And are told they are great by a posse of powerful fools
Where are my groupies hanging off my every word?
Cherishing my every syllable
Masturbating to every lick of my lips between sentences
Instead of being cast aside as yesterday’s news set to become someone’s bride
Tied to the apron strings of my prison longing on my linoleum
For some way out for someone to put me on their stage
So someone else can complain about lack of talent as people clap
For every word I read that has become someone else’s jealous fantasy instead

© 2009 Miss Blue