A string of steps, a beam with a hop,
The eye of the people descends on the sunny spirit.
She, crowned prom queen, with her saccharinity lights up the room,
Who would ever grasp if she ever sensed misery too?
A juvenile fantasy, a hook of destiny,
“Must be Fortune’s whim, or infatuation clandestinely.”
Eminence earned by fate, what must have the young lady done,
To gain this repute, to hold as a ‘special someone’?
She remained just a frolic fawn like the others,
Else queried if it were carved to occur in the diamonds of druthers.
Now, she’s solace for other’s woes with her verses,
But who’s there to soothe when the dart falls at the fragile heart of hers?
The prom queen attires in her veil of sunshine, for after all, she is the insignia of ‘joviality’,
Falsely informs of faith in fame, she’s lastly opined how people truly are, fake entities.
Oh, but frequent praised how blessed she is, values and feels for so fluently,
But if she ever one who is the observed or can recognize her without a bilateral image.
She believed to be who is the facade of all, the companion of every,
The sinister truth is among those she reflected ‘pals’, she’s just a forgotten castaway.
If people saw her the scars behind her stardom, would ‘people’ even care?
The prom queen paints it over with rainbow, now the opaqueness is her despair.
Fame comes in different fonts, veils come in different shades,
Reputation in distinct wears, feelings interred behind masks of the masquerades.
If one day, she exhibits who genuinely is, the prom queen finally drops the gilded crown,
Will the light fade from the social chandelier, would she drown?
Has the poor soul really deserved this, for believing she would be appreciated,
She too was one who reflected, like others, fame for being a man’s friend.
Recognition to show the greatness of individual, prestige coming with achieving,
Fame is an ancient painting, an embrace, and one that truly can be deceiving.