Lives in a shanty hut, shows off a manor
A blue-green countenance but a mask of candour
Countless wounds conceal the skin hers flawless
A picturesque smile but actually mirthless

Walks she on red carpets, banquets five stars
But later when lonely sneaks to the cheap bars
The booze, the drugs, the nicotine detaches her
But ecstasy only worsens the burdens she incurs

A veil of indifference to hide her frets
Punctured by a feather, says she wears a thick skin
Veneers she her blues with coats red and pale
Her skin underneath congested like her overflowing mail

Thousands of followers but no one to seek resort
Countless assaults but how can she report
Ages she as her psyche ails further
Trips and passes she as she can go no further

Thanking you,
Sujaya Shrestha

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