Her steps take her
To the top of the world,
Where she belongs,
Although she looks
To take the escalator
While the rest of us
Stumble up the stairs
Her portrait
In a gilt frame
On a gilt wall of fame
She knows she deserves,
While we,
The humbled masses
Settle for
Faded Polaroid
Snap shots,
We growing yellow
Not golden
As we grow old,
She ten strides ahead
Of the rest of us,
Reaching that mysterious
Chamber where only
The truly great
Can assemble,
Where when we reach it
We see her portrait
Those amazing eyes
Looking down at us
Her curled lips
Her scalding stare,
Boasting
About having gotten
What she’s always wanted
Always deserved,
And deep down
We all know it.
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