Stars are just like us,
they implode without warning,
leaving a debris field
to ride roughshod over.

It is quite a performance,
so they post a sign
and sell tickets,
just to keep it legal.

Stars, they're just like us,
they like it on top,
but often survive
as bottom-dwellers.

They whistle while they work,
clawing at the walls
of a coal mine,
hoping for a little snow white.

Holding fast before the lights
go down, leaving them lonesome
with credit card debit
and video on demand.