Vain loved his vanity,
From which he gazed at his vanity,
One might call it insanity,
Or self-centered depravity.
He loved the color in his eyes,
The prettiest blue, he surmised.
He praised the scar on his left thigh,
Despite its fracture in his picture-perfect guise.
He took another selfie,
To boast about his vanity,
But little did he know,
All he had to show,
Were about a million fans who loved his body,
And turned that into his entire personality.
One day, Vain woke up,
There were no comments on his post.
Something was amok,
It was as if he were a ghost.
Someone new had come onto the block,
A gorgeous girl named Guinevere.
Her post had put him into shock,
As his body shook with fear.
He quickly posed and took a selfie,
His fans rushed back only temporarily.
If he lost his purpose,
That meant the voices weren’t wrong when they called him worthless.
How could he deserve this?
Vain’s vanity was one of his biggest curses.
Guinevere won in the end,
She got the fans, the money, and all the fake friends.
Vain was gutted,
His heart was broken.
Was this preordained?
Was all of Vain’s vanity in vain?
A tragic tale that many people nowadays experience.