Chaste honest angel
Why did you trade your halo
Of self-respect and intellect
For the cesspit of magnetism
Now magazine replaced your thunder
Through a glossy faceless cover
Upon pages of gratuitous pictures
Without words for the meek and docile
On china doll street
And now you tread an empty guile
Seasonal second hand bravura
Behind a lens of a faux fur kitten
Which you studied in every morning
But what you fail to compromise
Under the binged eating disguise
Was that no triptych can save face
When your pursuits are defaced by time
On China Doll Street
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem