The annual parade
Was the greatest event
For those who stood high
on their heels and our heads.

With surgery smiles
and black mummified lashes
They wave at the crowd
and the camera flashes.

Yet those who dare walk
On this carpet of wine
Will struggle and ****
To remain first in line.

As still mortal glances
Chase after some idol
They never suspect
They are all quite suicidal.