Hollywood Glamour

I touch on superstars and my hollwood dream.

It’s written on the hills, everyone knows the name..

From 1940’s glamour to the sick price of fame.

A life makes a picture and bleeds something more,
the tragic superstar, a model turned w***e.

The celebrities adored, become ours to mould.
Why do I crave it? My life to be sold.

The money is cheap, the people aren’t free.
A rose can not last for eternity..

Some of them flourish, some of them bloom,
Some carry thorns that only bring doom.

The indigo dream, a musk scented life,
Something so sweet like turkish delight.

The paparazzi is bitter, the public so kind,
I just want the life, both intertwined.

Hollywood velvet, a true love of mine,
It runs through my blood like a glass of red wine.

Drunk with desire for a life with the stars,
Drug overdoses and death brought by cars.

The negatives captured, now they’re displayed.
A sunny paradise, turned flat lemonade.