Pomp and Circumstance

~*~

Clothe me in soft laces of golden honey

Spun from a weave of senseless lies

With high heeled shoes and face painted so sunny

Ain’t it fun to dress me up and watch me die.

~*~

Celebrations of glitz and glamour

A room of glittering gold and sparkling silver

Attended, by no other than sombre clowns and masked harlots

Pretending to shine brightly when they’ve already rusted a lot.

~*~

She’s lovely, pretty, her dress was so breezy

The expression on her face displays that life is easy

He’s a gentleman, a handsome one, his face shows nothing but fun

They get adored by everyone but who genuinely cares about them? No one.

~*~

Abstract concepts of presumptuous formality

Painted with ballgowns, top hats, riches, and exterior beauty

What is that painting though, but an example of human crime

Of another blank canvas ruined with the wrong ideas overtime?

~*~

I’m gorgeous, mystical, prettier than shades of pink

I’m Gomorrah, maledicted, uglier that one might think

I’m perfection, elegance, radiant to society’s eyes

After all, they’re the one who dressed me up, so I say, bring on the lies.

~*~

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