Empty Beauty and Cinema Smiles

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Just a bit on the flat beauty of old film stars. For me, Judy Garland was the most beautiful women to live, but there was always this empty, almost sad look to her eyes, especially in the later years. Just about corrupted beauty.

Submitted: December 29, 2009

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Submitted: December 29, 2009

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I feel as though I'm empty.

As flat and lifeless as the women on the screen.

The black and white women of the forties.

With British affectations,

Who lived in Hollywood.

We know that they have blonde hair,

And painted red lips.

But you can never see their colors.

So monochromatic,

So fake.

Able to fall into the arms of a lover for the camera,

And then fall into bed at night.

Wasted.

Used up.

Always the beauty,

Sinking into a passionate embrace,

Reunited with the long lost love.

But somehow, always alone.

They lived in their own color, but we'll never see it.

So where is the proof?

How can we know there was depth to their beauty?

Yes, they had lean noses,

And big, long lashed eyes.

But they lived in a black and white world.

Flawless beauty.

In black and white.

No depth.

No dimension.

No wonder they all died of overdoses.

Pathetic, dramatic women.

Painting on a gleaming smile,

Ripe, and sexy for any ready audience.

I would need a release too.

If my world was always glamour,

but only ever in black and white.


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