All dolled up in grease and paint to kill
Condemned perpetually to consult the mirror
Burned by harsh ultra-violet rays of glamour
Licked by scorching flames of fame.

Hounded by sensation-bitten paparazzi
Driven to flash always a pasted smile
Forced to endless rituals of body cult
Starved to near death to maintain figure.

Strapped to ventilator of fashion critique’s rating
Facing fade-out threats from younger rivals
How long will I top the charts?
The unspeakable fear
Past heady bloom cruelly destined for the dust bin.

Why not cultivate rather the inner self
And be for ever in unfading bloom?