She craves the trappings of luxury
Wanting to eat for free
Driven by aspiration
She is a would be Mrs someone to be
She haunts the VIP only
Straining to be seen
She worships at the temple of Prada
Her bible is the glossy magazine
Stereotypically blonde
She is easy on the eye
Men swarm to her honey pot
But only names need apply
She lies back thinking of England
A des-res out in the sticks
She says she is no working girl
Yet for the fabulously famous she turns tricks
Living in a world which is shameless
Looking for the kiss and tell
Never knowing of dignity
She fell under celebrity’s spell
She is what we made her
She is just the tabloid wet dream
Clown to a media circus
Infamy seeker extreme
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem