Cameras flashing
showers of golden glitter
Reporters dotted all over
like litter, but
Behind the film
some truth remains
Evident in the
grins so pained
Kewpie dolls and plastic men
Cower behind the scriptor's pens
But behind their eyes lies bitter surprise
For they were told no truth,
just lies
"You possess talent, i promise! you'll see
In a few months you'll be living the dream
Thousands of fans,
dollars galore:
Never again will
you yearn for more."
Now, where is the passion, the reason, the drive?
It's curled up at home,
where you were once alive.
