My spine was iron wrought 
So I would not give in
Untouchable, I thought 
In painted porcelain skin
But I conformed for favor
Dressed in trendy florals
I began to waiver
And rested on my laurels
Dreams dimmed and faded
Of a future deferred
My morals were traded
For a guise I preferred
My silver tongue twisted
My throat has filled with rust
I should have persisted
But my words became dust