this is my rant this is my rage ha ha ha
okay so im going to turn this one into a slam poem becuase its long and wordy and way to thick and obvious to be a real poem... but still someone had to write it right? ha ha ha im going to hopefully record it sometime soon:P who knows.
Paris Hilton, Our Venus Seeks Our Worship
You see her, as she flips her phone,
The Venus of the modern world, does not embody classical mythology,
She’s a modern dumbed down type, and when I say dumbed down...
Well that’s really more or less an understatement.
She, standing with her caramel legs and pedicured feet,
Placed sweetly into six inch killer stilettos,
The pointy type, the kind that she will walk all over everyone in,
She, stands in line to get her fix of caffeine and calories that she will later barf up while
She goes to the bathroom to powder her nose...
And lets not be naive about what I meant there.
When she sees the cameras she plays sweet like sauce,
But don’t cross her she’s scary little thing,
All that anger and hunger,
Parents to busy to lover her,
Body to perfect to actually be fed,
She has everything right?
I'm mean what more could you ask for,
Except maybe one of those new escalades...
The ones with diamond encrusted wheels and 24carat paint.
Lets not forget we've made her this, we put her in lights,
We with out the money gave her the power to rule our thoughts,
We bowed down to worship her while looking up her skirt...
Because as usual she’s not wearing panties...
We love her we hate her we would do anything to silence her, but then again,
Wait.
We love her, and we hate her we would do anything to be her,
Forfeit the knowledge, and the wisdom, and the families, who love us,
Screw the Pinto, or the Nissan, and working for the man, we would drop it all...and give it up to be the ones put on that stand.
WHAT?!? You look at me with perplexed eyes like all I do is spit these lies...
Still in your hearts your blackest corners you envy wealth, and still adore her...
So if we really cared enough we'd say it by turning the TV’s off...
And instead of trying to look more like her we might try thinking on lands like Darfur... or the countless other countries we cant spell cause our American greed made their lives a hell...
We might start trying to get out more, to help out people we know are poor,
We the "blessed" the elect of God, we all seem to think that charity is odd,
And I’m getting kinda scared by the words we share cuase we talk like we care, but don’t you dare, cuase you'd be looked at like you had three eyes, and you know… maybe if you did you might see past the lies... and realize that Paris Hilton isn’t God she's just a prostitute in nicer clothes.
Paris Hilton, Our Venus Seeks Our Worship
You see her, as she flips her phone,
The Venus of the modern world, does not embody classical mythology,
She’s a modern dumbed down type, and when I say dumbed down...
Well that’s really more or less an understatement.
She, standing with her caramel legs and pedicured feet,
Placed sweetly into six inch killer stilettos,
The pointy type, the kind that she will walk all over everyone in,
She, stands in line to get her fix of caffeine and calories that she will later barf up while
She goes to the bathroom to powder her nose...
And lets not be naive about what I meant there.
When she sees the cameras she plays sweet like sauce,
But don’t cross her she’s scary little thing,
All that anger and hunger,
Parents to busy to lover her,
Body to perfect to actually be fed,
She has everything right?
I'm mean what more could you ask for,
Except maybe one of those new escalades...
The ones with diamond encrusted wheels and 24carat paint.
Lets not forget we've made her this, we put her in lights,
We with out the money gave her the power to rule our thoughts,
We bowed down to worship her while looking up her skirt...
Because as usual she’s not wearing panties...
We love her we hate her we would do anything to silence her, but then again,
Wait.
We love her, and we hate her we would do anything to be her,
Forfeit the knowledge, and the wisdom, and the families, who love us,
Screw the Pinto, or the Nissan, and working for the man, we would drop it all...and give it up to be the ones put on that stand.
WHAT?!? You look at me with perplexed eyes like all I do is spit these lies...
Still in your hearts your blackest corners you envy wealth, and still adore her...
So if we really cared enough we'd say it by turning the TV’s off...
And instead of trying to look more like her we might try thinking on lands like Darfur... or the countless other countries we cant spell cause our American greed made their lives a hell...
We might start trying to get out more, to help out people we know are poor,
We the "blessed" the elect of God, we all seem to think that charity is odd,
And I’m getting kinda scared by the words we share cuase we talk like we care, but don’t you dare, cuase you'd be looked at like you had three eyes, and you know… maybe if you did you might see past the lies... and realize that Paris Hilton isn’t God she's just a prostitute in nicer clothes.