One look around,
Plastered everywhere like a boomerang that never calms down,
Hypocritical words and false perfection.

Coloring the bags under their eyes
Camouflaging the stretch mark on their thighs
And the rest of us stay fixated on our insecurities.

They get paid millions of dollars
To correct their microphoned voices
And be honored for the 'hottest celebrity'
When they are just like the rest of us.