All That Glitters: Hollywood's Darkside

Photo by Catherine via Flickr. Used under Creative Commons license.

. . .

Silenced...

Deceived by half-truths, great fortunes foretold.

Your childhood was stripped away by egos that were much too bold.

You walked in sightlessly, blindfold

Securely in place.

Everything about the situation was so firmly controlled.

They coerced you. A demand to pick up the pace.

Innocence traded to be accepted into the fold,

You'd been shaped and conditioned, to fit inside their elite mold.

~

All that glimmers is not gold.

Their souls have been bought, consciences sold.

~

Entry into Hollywood's elite, so eagerly you enrolled.

Never suspecting they'd destroy from the inside out, yet never leave a trace.

Knowing they all had reputations to uphold.

In the public eye, they'd conduct business with such grace.

You were desperate for that foothold.

They warned: Never identify a single face.

~

Identities discovered would result in far more than a reprimand or a scold.

Your pristine name would be the one that tarnished and bowled.

They'd protect their secrets at any cost.

So their depravities you still withhold.

Your innocence is already lost.

Would you be believed if you finally told?

Spilled their secret that all that glitters is not gold?

Too many souls have been bought, their bodies unwillingly sold.

~

Lured by visions of your name on a grand marquee, to accompany a bulging billfold.

All would be guaranteed.

You couldn't wait to set foot upon the red carpets, as out they rolled.

Thinking your purity would still be warrantied.

After all, that's what you'd been told.

No mention of your innocence being bought, nor your body sold.

They'd spun such tales if truth be told,

But that world of theirs it's much too cold.

~

They want you to believe that if it glitters, it's gold.

That's the premise upon which many have been sold.

~

If you asked them all, young and old,

They'd tell you if anonymously polled.

All of them would've escaped, run backward, through the threshold.

They would've fled from the promises doled.

Run from the pain so inexplicably given.

Exited the car before a single suitcase could be rolled.

Trusted their talents, been guided by passions more innocently driven.

~

Because all that glitters is most assuredly not gold.

Far too many souls have been bought, their bodies sold.

. . .

This poem was inspired by all of those who were lured in and ultimately harmed by people like Harvey Weinstein, Jeffrey Epstein, Ghislaine Maxwell, and far too many others. The victims of human traffickers as well. People who have committed unconscionable acts, thinking their money would keep them insulated from any sort of consequence. Which is all too often the case. Unfortunately, none of their victims will ever receive true justice.