Do we forget,
simply who we are?
When the stage is empty,
the spotlight soothes, the audience cheers, and the limits
We all wonder,
what goes on in the head
of a celebrity splashed on a tabloid.
Have they done a new dastardly deed,
or has this week brought them tragedy?
Fascinated, we stare
long and hard- but imperfections are scarce.
Photoshop will do that to you
What do we become,
when all that we think about is reaching
past the ceiling, the limits, the rules, the laws, the advice, the actual good intentions
What do we become?
Mirrors hold secrets told to not a soul-
alone we are more vulnerable than we dare
Do they blind you?
Does each click of the paparazzi ease away your past?
Do you find refuge in shooting up, in getting high, in throwing back
shot, after shot, after shot, after shot, after shot, after shot
until all you can feel is quite simply
nothing at all
Are they so dazzling
that you forget who you were
all that made the world love you
all that built you into a star
all that your pedestal is made of
all that you were given
all that you had?
Do you forget the mission you set out with?
Does the success make you turn
from all the people you said you would help
the people that you promised
to raise from poverty
to build a school for
What happened to you?
Are you still there
do you still know what you want
do you still know who you are?
Do we still know who you are?
Or do we now determine who you are?
Bright lights are wrapped
with pretty words
with nice looking cellophane
with expensive presents
with a-list party invatations
with stars whom you've only see on the movie screen
When the sparkle fades
what is left?
They are bright lights,
simply bright lights.