The luck and chance poems V - How to steamroll an ego

She'll be singing until 3 am
Then it's time to pick up the waste
And start all over again
Red faced and without the taste
Of starberry and knack
She's blunt, she's dressed in black
She wears a flower in her hair
Though she's never seen the Golden Bridge
She puts up with deadbeats in a binge
And raises smiles never there
But she's just another klutz
She's just a pretty face
And if you ever see her there
Tell her I send my regards
And my most sincere sorrows

She's a little on the short side, I know
She's been covered by the smoking athlete way too often
(But never really gave herself away)
She seems a little hollow
I would never trust her
I would never care
Unless she somehow gave up
Unless she somehow became beaten
Unless she somehow became perfect
Which she'll never be