She sits on a pedestal,
Looking down,
Acting like a queen when she is nothing but a slave like the rest of us.
Looking down,
On friends,
Family,
Soulmates.
She'll always be "in",
But she'll never be accepted.
She will always get a guy,
A first kiss,
A first love,
But they will never love her.
It's a curse, being at the top.
You'll never be real,
But a plastic mask,
Behind which nothing lies.
An emptiness,
Blackness,
No heart,
No soul.
You know what they say.
When your at the top, there's a longer way to fall.














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