Of course the art of it lays in perfect imitation.
Dedicating hours to the mirror,
rehearsing a troubled look of ‘feelings’
would be an absolute daunting agony
if it wasn’t for the interruption of hysterical laughter.
Then there’s the zoning out…
into the standing ovation and applause…
ripping yourself backwards out of the warmth
and glory of that natural contemplation.
To once again, for the umpteenth time today,
slowly form, that delicate and pathetic ‘Boo-boo lip’.
You’ll have them wrapped around your little finger
when you reveal this latest masterpiece.
Those tears could be real and flowing properly,
if she would only take a good look inside
to the inadequacy and insecurity
which are the foundations of her weak, hidden soul.
But home truths are ugly and for losers,
whilst external adulation is the shallowest and bestest
kind of satisfied mind, cleverness is deceptiveness
and the narcissistic show must endlessly go on.

Written by Paul Tristram


Available to buy via Lulu


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