No matter Tara

empty parties, and suicide -
there was no-one left to know -
fur coat and bikini
in five degrees below

beautiful woman, perfect skin
perfect body nothing
to begin, no worthwhile
living

the emptiness caught up with you
the voice of vacuity
you looked in the mirror
didn't like what you see:

a wasted life of no worth:
booze and drugs and laughter
someone born rich, someone
IT someone famous

just a piece of dust like
the rest of us:  all the money,
finery, fashion, jewellery,
elegant dining, expensive cars

can't fill a void of
no purpose, no use to put
your skills - no learning, no
awe, no history, no aim

such vast stretching nothingness
filled with leisure and money
and nothing to do
would drive anyone insane -
the deep down place knows
from our true heart, not
our gut or brain, that we were
put on this earth to use our hands

to dig in the dirt if we have to
to contribute to someone
else's lot, not be a pillar
of salt, all taste and no worth

but to do a good deed for
another, not waste away
in a million pound house
made for beauty and no matter

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