Hanging by a thread

In this world of celebrity sugar,

Where we get a spoon of measure.

Too unwelcome and life size;

I can find no pleasure.

Not in the fatuous and vain

And the increments of their incapacity

To play the superficial game.

But in the slain:

The poor souls of this world

Who shroud their grief and agony

In fancy cakes and forget-me-nots

And fake tan that looks not so

Hot.

Least they be confronted

With the awful reality of their pain

And life in the drain.

© Ester Spears 2011