Los Angeles- bright and starstruck,
Like the moon in the night sky,
So vain and full of haughtiness,
Proud of who she is, but why?
She sticks her nose up in the air,
And boasts her landmarks so well-known,
She laughs when her own people fail,
Her heart is as cold as stone.
She goes along with the world,
And does what she thinks best,
Hollywood royals lifted higher than all,
And honored when they lay to rest.
Blessed among cities? True!
But still a poor, lost waif,
L.A., the City of Broken Dreams,
Where no intelligence is safe.
She knows her enemy through and through,
But truth is a weapon she hasn't used,
She is self-centered and cares not of others,
America laughs, but she's hardly amused.
She believes in facts, and cold evidence,
And knows talent from simple luck,
Vegas is her BFF, but L.A. isn't friendly.
She is a paradox, blind and starstruck.
I think she is like a teenage girl,
So vulnerable and self- conscious,
Celebrating celebrities every night,
Until they are forgotten? How preposterous!
Los Angeles is the opposite of New York,
Different cultures and mindsets,
The City of Broken Dreams, it seems,
Is still a lot more mindless.