Never shall you be upon a silver screen,

Nor courted by a thousand young males.

And to believe you'll cover a magazine

Will prove windless in your life's sails.

Your pictures will hang, only at home,

To be the vista of desolate walls.

No one will answer your commanding tone,

And only I will answer your calls.

Yes they are dreams but that let it be.

A line must be drawn from the true.

If all you desire is for others to see,

Then here is the view I offer to you;

You will always be a star, in disguise,

By the twinkle you've placed in my eyes.