Madame Pompous


You present yourself with a fake smile
And soil your teeth with those red lipsticks
Your ears heavy with chandeliers
Racing themselves to the ground

Voluminous hair that looks like a shroud
I wonder how heavy you carry them around
Deep colors surround your face
Made you look like Cleopatra in disgrace

Just that thought of you makes me laugh
Much more by your bangles that sounds
Like chimes by the window or cymbals clashing
Only gone wild, un-rhythmic smashing

Now, look at your dress, your most excellent I guess
You wear them well like you’re floating on air
In a parade of black in a rainy afternoon
Down the cemetery like a banshee on the lose

I pity the ground where your stilettos land
How painful is it, the pressure they stand
From those heavy logs and pointed heel of your shoes
I’d rather have a syringe than your piercing hooves

Madame de Pompadour or whatever you are called
Have it ever occurred in your mind it’s not delightful at all
I could not pretend like it is nothing to me
When everyone else is in a laughing spree.

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