The Vanishing Star

The Vanishing Star

Languishing roses in her vase

Love is but an antiquated  sentiment

As her youth has faded.

Fame is wasted on the famous.

This much she knows now.

The glitter. The razzle and dazzle

All made a vanishing act.

The ghost of her star remains.

She looks in the reflective glass

And finds a new line deeper than pain

In her forehead.

The stray greys shoot from her hair

In winding coils.

Once she took care of her greys

With a bottle of scarlet dye.

Not today.

Today, she takes a drag from her cigarette

And wears a long gown with faded roses

Once in crimson blooms.

Not even Jesus can restore her fading star.

So she resigns to her destiny

And relaxes back to her velvet chair

The only piece of furniture in her once grand

Now almost derelict mansion

That still provides comfort for her aching bones.

She closes her eyes and drifts into a deep sleep.

Sweet dreams of her youth flood her still.