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The narrative.

Is a creature of perspective

Bred of brothel income

Gambling debts

And Ponzi schemes

With a dash of fair enterprise mixed in to give it a certain pedigree.

Look here and watch her trot

Plot and prance about

Casting a seed of doubt

As she steals the limelight and admiration of a thousand punters clutching their fists hoping for a payout.

And where she frolics, cash follows

So the punters follow too

Dazzled and grim

Hoping for the big win

Hooked on dopamine and cheap gin

How the narrative continues to spin

And so it spins.

Even when she trips and stumbles

Or breaks her leg and tumbles

Is set on fire

Struck by lightning

Poisoned with arrows dipped in the venon of toxic toads

They watch on with their clenched fists

Pissed and yet desperately hopeful

That the narrative will find its feet

And sprint to meet

The finish line in first, second and third place

A complete trifecta.

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