Honesty has been injured,
as evidenced by the flushes
on the face of clarity
and promises similarly stained.
But wasn't she graceful
as she glided across that platform
- a stage built for mistakes -
with her silken train
of deteriorated integrity in tow?
She never stumbled over the backlash.
Bravo.
She managed a weekend of great circumstance
without morality but with much prosperity.
She left her cumbersome conscience at home
and it suited her well.
I could never invest in such treason.
I was floundering in disgrace.
I asked her to pass the rifle.
"I'm sorry, but this corner is running out of space."
With sensational understanding,
she smiled.
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