The American Tragedy

She was beautiful

Brighter than the sun

And she was precious

the boy knew she was the one


Beauty queen,

you know her type,

big city dreams

A girl that is up all night


But oddly she felt empty

her soul cried for something more

It was as if her life became a bore

Everything she had to do felt similar to a chore

She longed for more

love and his sweet caressing touch,

but they could never be


Could it be?

Only seventeen

Born into prosperity

But lost in a sea of unfullfilled dreams, arrogance and vanity

Media has made her what she shouldn't be

Labeled and trashed for what they have deemed her to be

She now goes by The American Tragedy

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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