Paid The Price and Having Felt Nice

A poem by yours truly in maybe two years. This is a poem more macabre then it's intended meaning but let's say it's about your favorite female celebrity. Anyone will do. It's sincerely up to you.

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Paid the price and having felt nice,

She walks the palace, a hint of malice in her plumped up plum lips 

With a hint of the spit of a God like man,

that uses his wits and diamond crusted band to catch beautiful women like you

Well you bounce on the lap of his star crusted member, to the sound of your dignity being dismembered,

You look in his eye and see a soul taking mister, a look of hate, oh so sinister

So paid the price and having felt nice,

You head home in your boat made of gold to your mother lying dead, your father with no head,

You walk up the steps and take off your dress, your body marred and scarred,

You sit on your vanity and try to sing happily because behind all the paint, your face is a rotting place

You look in the mirror and stroke with your finger the trail between scalp and lace,

You take of the wig and no bigger than big, a bald spot large and merry

You lie in that bed

With that Devils head

And remember

That you paid the price

But is it still so nice?

Author's Note

Grammar is relative so mistakes are also relative.