She thought that she was all that, but she was not

The wardrobe that is painted on her, is not even hot

Endless glitter from her golden lashes, to her tiny toes

Walking around the city, while gloating up her big nose

Magazines don’t want her,but she doesn’t even know that

Her day consist of make up, and hair for three hours flat

The men around her watch, but don’t dare speak or move

Her hour glass figures clock, has run out of time, no groove

The obviously pink phone, that looks like a borrow from Barbie doll

It sits all alone on the shelf, fully charged up waiting for no rings or call

In the end all the powder or silk or lipstick, can make a man say no

That is what is happening at her quiet castle, friend or is he foo