She asks a doting aide
“You sure I look okay?”
Concerned about how she’s portrayed
Not what she has to say
They’re not her words anyway
She’s sticking to the script
Her masters have supplied
With plastic face so tucked and nipped
It’s not that hard to hide
The fear she feels inside
That someone will see through
The unrepentant sham
Which seems to mollify the crew
That only gives a damn
When triggered by the scam.
Are You Reading Me?
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