As Dead As Pretty Little Flowers in a Vase

You look so smooth
Polished and preserved
Like a work of art
 
Trying to live a lie
Without ever being in control
Of your own fickle heart
 
Cracks papered over
Trying to maintain a certain image
While inside you’re falling apart
 
Living life like a thoroughbred
When you were never any more
Than twenty minutes off the cart
 
Reaching too far and too fast
Without roots anchored
To take any strain
 
Believing you’re the strongest link
When you were never even
A part of the chain
 
The saddest part?
Given the chance?
You would do it all the same again
 
And still you can’t see
That this whole created psyche 
Is simply just insane
 
But there you go again
Hitting the town, the clubs
The brightly lit bars
 
Half remembered memories
Of being chauffeured to parties 
In other people’s cars
 
A flashing, strobe-lit blur
Of camera flashes, spotlights
And dancing under the stars
 
When will you ever realise
You’re already as dead
As the pretty flowers in a vase
 
Billy 17/12/2016
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