Mrs. Duct Tape Spokesmodel for Functioning Adults
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.
