Good day, I’m glad to see you here, Something’s been bothering me, I fear: Forgive me for the question that’s not modest, But who are you? Your talent’s phantom, boundless. "Star?" I whisper, pondering in surprise. Ah, yes, a star!! — I nod with glowing eyes. Sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first, Please forgive me, I don’t know what to say in this burst. Your image shines so bright, so grand, With talent soaring, touching skies so planned. But what’s the catch? Perhaps it’s clear, So much glitter, no effort, all’s sheer. What’s your talent? Just filters and lights, Buying followers to boost your likes. You’re all queens, monarchs without crowns, Your throne’s for rent, your plots mere downs. So beautiful, atop your lofty height, Hiding from cameras, your fears out of sight. The sound in the studio is pristine and neat, But live, your voice sounds like an old cat’s beat. Oh, tell us all, how everyone copies you, How someone’s style is stolen, all too true. You see nothing but envy in their gaze, But the fact is clear: you barely amaze. Are you wise, as they say? What a lie! A quote from a book you barely memorized last night. Our little star’s not just a singer, but wise, She speaks truth taken from yesterday's TikTok skies. And once again, on stage she shines, Dreaming of a world that forever declines. Your critics? They’re just jealous, no doubt, But the comment's locked, it says otherwise, shout. In the end, I’ll laugh lightly with you: You must know — it’s fate that’s been true, Liking yourself from another account, with trembling hand, I’ll cover your crystal world with a laugh so grand. Your fate is to be the queen of mockery, Congratulations, believe in yourself, it’s all in harmony. But they often don’t like you, let me just say: "Hooray, the star’s here! Let’s enjoy your silence today." Forgive my irony, I humbly beg, This poem grows in my mind, I gift it, I beg. And in your dream world, I’ll crown you true, Only you deserve it, your image I’ll keep, too.