Vanity: Poetry

It all runs together
like a vision
within a kalidoscope:
Listen
~
She found success
And a loving husband,
Had children by the plenty
And houses by the dozen
Still she passed from this
World under anesthesia
Because she wanted
A better, plastic chin
~
He found success
In business,
Toured the world
In a private jet,
Rubbed elbows
With the rich and famous
And still he died
Because he wanted to live
The fast life while
Flying high on amphetamines
~
She found success
as a model in her 20s,
Walked with her hands
kissed by men of wealth
She'd lounged 
in foreign countries, 
faintly bored, yet excited,
And still she died
Weighing only 95 lbs
while seeing food as poison
~
Some of us are tripping
on the acid residue of
a former life's fumes,
possessing all,
holding nothing:
Vanity.

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