tabaet

Trophy


Put up your pedestal,
And place me there,
With my gilded skin glare,
An effigy to your ethereal feeling,
Protected projections you've cast and mold
in your false idolizing possessive mind,
And I,
encased so you feel secure in your grace.

Many celebrated trophy's accompany,
the musical prodigy of helicopter parent-ology,
the super model arm accessory,
All of us,
your sons, daughters, lovers, and friends
Are your touchable,
intangible,
association to greatness.

How you polish our image vigorous,
Coveting the cover outer shell sheen,
A clever misdirection
from your parasitic refection,
Polished until you see your reflection.

And we will sit in unsatisfied glory,
The protagonists in a story of ideological idolatry,
Encased in glass, Faced and fast,
Just out of grasp...

Until a greater effigy is placed,
Younger, faster, smarter, easier,
A new faced fad and a real crowd pleaser,
And this new castes shadow hides our glow,
Until we're left unpolished, collecting spots,
And fitted in the back row.