L.A. sun shines bright—
but glass hides a darker script
beyond the palm trees.
Starlets dream in fear,
a producer’s bloody notes
etched in memory.
Stage lights flicker out—
the role no one meant to play
turns into the truth.
Fiction bleeds through facts,
mansions perched on hills of ash—
the cult sings off-key.
Agents change their names,
files are lost, redacted, burned—
history rewound.
Peace signs fade to ash,
flower crowns worn by the damned—
love turned into bait.
The City of Dreams
is stitched with stitched-up silence—
a set built on lies.
Tom flips every stone,
his questions rot in the sun—
too late for answers.
Behind every smile,
a whisper from long ago:
“They’ll never believe.”