Hollywood Boulevard Poem by John Wathen

Along the boulevard of broken dreams
The scattered starlets lie,
the casting couch as cast them out
and left their dreams to die.
In canyons leading up to the hills,
in mansions, high behind the walls.
Other`s dreams have been fulfilled.
They have no thoughts for those left below
whose dreams have all been stilled.
In marble bathrooms they preen and glow,
not a thoughts for those below.
Who can only watch withs mouths agog
while they struggle in the L.A. smog.