So you've finally snared a Rock Star!
Your friends are envious and hope
he possibly has an associate or two
that you could introduce them to.
Suddenly you're a front page babe
in the tabloids and glossy mags.
They clamour to interview you to ask
for every detail about your past.
All the attention goes to your head
and you play it right to the hilt.
A role model it seems you've become.
Of all the groupies, you're number one.
You flirt with the camera as if it's a lover,
you smile, pout and entice.
'Look who I'm with!' you appear to be saying
as you pass the lens, luscious hips swaying.
Then at the pinnacle of reflected fame,
you're gutted to find yourself ditched.
They say a seductress more exotic
has turned his head with promises erotic!
'Why?' you cry, as your world tumbles down
and humiliation sets in.
But to everyone else it's obvious why.
Your connection with him was based on a lie.
In the beginning he needed a trophy,
and it seemed you would fit the bill.
Your looks, your hair and body were great,
just what he needed as media bait.
But then your 'off' days began to challenge
his vision of female perfection.
When things like PMT kicked in,
all you wanted was a quiet night in.
You couldn't be bothered with makeup then,
nor dressing to stoke his ego.
'Surely I am entitled,' you said,
'To sometimes just be in the years ahead!'
This act of rebellion scared him to death.
For his public image he feared.
What if someone should drop by?
Of humiliation he would surely die.
No one must ever see his Goddess
in her unadorned (flawed) human state.
His enemies for certain would seize the day
and his credibility be swept away.
Then in public he could never again show his face.
He'd be forced to relocate
to some obscure island where in exile he'd dwell
and live life unknown - his personal hell!
Surely you never believed such a man
would love you for who you are?
It isn't that he's intrinsically bad,
just more, I'd say, than a little sad.
To stardom he's a phobic slave,
without it what would he be?
Just another ordinary guy in the street
who no one particularly wants to meet.
It's groupies like you who raised him up
to the dizzy heights of fame.
So it's you, not he, who possess real power.
You could end his career within the hour!