A Poem: Night, Life - 3/20/10

You continue to drown in the nightlife
Hooked on the drinks and blinded by the lights
An addict of adulation, missing maturation,
You can't seem to get your mind right...
Even though it's a deal with the devil,
It's about getting signed right?
Getting paid to be mentally laid and physically played...
But it's about "getting mine" right?
Models wear clothes rather than bear those
Every time you shake it or get naked,
You show you don't love yourself; everyone there knows...
But they'll leave you in the dark
Leave you confuzzled because that business is a puzzle
And you're just playing your part.
The only money to be made is the money that is laid,
The money that is thrown to make you think you hold your own
The money that is flaunted so reputations seem to be vaunted...
Only in this place are "getting wet" and being "rained on" two separate happenings
You're the only model that can still eat foods that are fattening
But that's not the problem.
Model is a title earned, not a title given
A title to work in, not to live in
Work and life have become a blurred mess
Especially when they buy the specialty and have you a slurred mess
Heard yes, but taken so lightly
As you need an abbreviation for the inebriation that takes place nightly
So rather than be Falsely Understood and Classified as Kinky
You give in and fuck.
He promised exposure in return
But did not say in what fashion...
He tells his friends, the rumors begin, all the guys want some action.
You're bombarded with money, promises, and gifts
Keys to a suite, new heels on your feet, and expedient lifts
They would oil you up, make those legs shine
All you had to do was pose then open those up at bedtime...
Used to moving slow, you started living life at the redline
Fast money, fast cars, a life with no deadline...
But it did have an expiration date.
You let too many men eat off your plate
Simply because you had a greed you couldn't sate
Money was never worth attention
You would do anything just to get a mention...
That business has no pension
So you're back where you started, partying and wishing
Hoping for your chance to be recognized.
You caught up to the fast life
Only to have it outrun you in the end
So now when you're in VIP, hugging up trying to get access to the card behind the ID,
Trying to get noticed so you can be in the next video for So Icey,
Maybe you'll understand why life has been so icy;
Cold beverages, cold hearts,
Cold money in the cold dark,
That's the nightlife for you...
Your broken life is its cold mark.

-A. Lewis