Social cataclisms

You see them flock around you
Like roaches around scraps
Their modeled faces looking new
On top of tightly holding straps
They suck you dry
And leave you be
Alone, forgotten, broken
Illustrous smiles of fake glee
That smell like something rotten
Portray their carelessness and lust
Their need for adulation
Your helpless nakedness is just
Next step in their salvation
Your blood - their food
And tears - their wine and glory
And only bones remain afoot
An end to lovly foray
The social cataclisms at last
Have eaten. End of story.