Mrs. Duct Tape Spokesmodel for Functioning Adults

Heather has a Bachelor's Degree in English from Moravian College and has been freelance writing for more than 13 years.

Picture this vision of virtue barely held together

Needed something to keep the pieces from blowing away

Into the ether until a permanent solution could be found

Luckily, the neighbor brought some tape with their cup of sugar

A brand of excellence encased in light grey stickiness

Meant to hold everything in place after it's been fractured

Beyond any possible permanent repair by a professional

Gave the delusion that things haven't changed when in fact

Nothing was; or will be, the same ever again

Something changed and cannot be taken back

Whether it was by accident, design, or a simple mistake

A response to high wired body chemistry that could only handle

So many Mr. Goodbars and high doses of certain medicines

Felt the bumblebee sting of clinging to a semi-distant past

Where dust and dirt could be swept under the rug

Without the boss or warden being none the wiser

Sadly, that plan cannot come to fruition with the rug

Having vanished from view into the nearest trash dumpster

Irretrievable by anyone including a random trash collector

Forced to put on a brave face when fear often crept into the fold

That was beneath the façade of mysterious flaws

Some of them legitimate and other manufactured

Never believed that the model fit in with the rest of society

Just window dressing meant for a background player

Unwilling to step into the forefront of the camera lens

And be noticed by the photographers looking for

The next Lana Turner sitting at a lunch counter

Waiting to be discovered for the neon lights of stardom

An unusual combination holding up someone

Who lacked the education and self awareness to do so

Relied on the support of loved ones and the kindness of others

Latter based on a $25 copayment for some sound advice

Surely, it was genuine information given to help Mrs. Brady

Not become a complete repressed suburban zombie

Hopped up on pharmaceuticals in order to tolerate her children

Let's face that fictitious family had more skeletons in their closets

That the paparazzi and tabloids couldn't devote all their time to

Even though they would've loved to in a heartbeat

Everyone loved a fantasy; until someone burst the bubble

Allowed them to move onto a new fad to obsess over

Again and again.