What is the price of glamour?
The label upon fame,
Is it money?
A monetary tribute?
Luck?
The biased roll of a die?
How about effort?
Sweat of your brow?
Nay,
One does not believe so,
It is your very soul,
Your true worth,
No devils here in Hollywood,
It is not hell but a swamp,
Just flesh and blood mosquitoes,
In suits and movie sets,
You’ll be covered in plastic,
And follow a script,
Tied to a narcotic,
And they’ll love you for it,
The brainless throngs,
They’ll applaud as you lose yourself,
Just smile,
There are dollars in your eyes.
