The Actress

Here comes along a young and fair lady

Even though her work in the films seems a little shady

Her golden blonde locks trickle down her face

New York city was her birthplace

She is average in height and slim in figure

Small was her waist, but her ego was bigger

She puts on an act for the big screens

But behind the scenes, she is like a machine

She shows no mercy, kindness, or joy

There was nothing in life she seems to enjoy

No matter the amount of followers or praise

At the end of the night, she would end up in a drunken haze

Sitting sad and alone in her private suite

No other noise but the sound of her own heartbeat

From our eyes, her life may seem ideal

But the truth is, none of it is even real