Beauty and Grace

Overplayed, Overstimulating, Overindulgent

Who are you, hot stuff?
Are you so great, high and holy?
Do you have the right, the merit?
To run through the halls
On your long-legged horse
Screaming for attention?
Toiling to be noticed
With loud verbalizations,
Only murmers,
With bright colors,
Only shades of gray.

Disruptive, Dissatisfying, Disgusting

Who are you, oh goddess?
Have you noticed?
Has it never occurred to you?
You’re not so sexy, so tasteful,
Not as attractive as you think.
Reality: You’re average
Nothing more,
Maybe less.

Unappealing, Unintelligent, Undeserving

Your voice, you should know,
Amounts to no more
Than a shrill buzz.
Your rhetoric rolls much too long,
A sentence, even, outruns your mouth’s use.
You’re an annoyance:
Not a creator, not a changer,
Not a thinker, not a controller,
But a nobody with a microphone.

Immature, Insignificant, Inept

You’re standing on
A tall pillar of ignorance.
A head in the clouds
Doesn’t make you special,
Doesn’t  prove that you’re unique.
You’re blinded by the fog
Of your own ego,
And you see nothing but
The cloud of your own being.
And soon, miss, that pole will meet
The wrecking balls of reality.
Enjoy the freefall while it lasts.