Better be your best,
No one’s waiting around
To see what’s in store for the rest.
A small secret revealed,
Glasses of reveries,
A teaspoon of chagrin,
Imaginations and imageries.
You have to be cherry on the top,
A plump of sugar-coated pretensions,
Curses to that unholy image you’ve built up,
This isn’t time for self-detection.
Old men, tucked comfortably in the lady’s arms,
Belong to me, or belong not
They have the money, not the grace;
A tip of champagne, comparative gloat.
The party goes on,
Laughter, madness, sound of ’70s pop
Business deals signed, greens exchanged,
Hands down, the prettiest buys the lustiest shop.
The night comes to life,
Children forgotten, families non-existent,
Glittering blazers, gold-cupped stone rings
Escapade of earthly responsibilities.
Some things never change,
Some desires left forever unkempt,
They spent lives building dynasties,
Comfortable BMWs, the flashiest SUVs.
In vain? You make ask,
Because first impressions are your last.