The fashion world,
A world of its own,
A Lethal glare,
Can turn you to stone.
Broken ankles,
Trickling tears,
Boxes of bangles,
Hideaway your fears.
Your a model now,
All eyes on you,
I dare you to mess up,
As you wait for your cue.
Bright lights,
Blind as you walk,
Flashing photographers,
Want the money shot.
Eating disorders,
Lipstick stains,
You have always looked great,
In a picture frame.
Maybe your not cut out for,
This frightening biz,
You have to be part of a sex scandal,
To become a whiz.
Alcohol and catfights,
Those are your Friday nights,
Until you get caught,
By those flashing lights.
Individuality,
Its pushed away,
Forget you,
For the rest of your days.
Your a human hanger,
Nothing more,
That is until you take control,
And slam that door.
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