So blind and oblivious is she
She doesn't realize what she has
She is perfect.
Flawless.
Surrounded is she,
By all of her admirers.
Secret and known.
Like bees in a garden full of flowers.
She is the beautiful new grown speciment.
They are the bees:
Ravenous, full of hunger and want.
For her.
But she does not realize this.
She does not realize that people would die to be like her.
To have what she has.
That beautiful thing.
How I would love to be her.
To have all she has.
She would be jealous though.
She notices she is not on top.
She notices when something is missing,
When she is not the center of attention,
Surrounded by her followers.
She does not realize what is missing.
But it is a sudden emptiness.
With a little effort, the emptiness is filled.
She is on top again.
Perfect and flawless.
I envy her.
Yet I so want to know her and be like her.
No.
I cannot let myself stoop that low.
I must be myself.
She can shine in her blind glory.
I'll let her.
Just this once.

 
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