Provide, Provide

The witch that came (the withered hag)

To wash the steps with pail and rag,

Was once the beauty Abishag,



The picture pride of Hollywood.

Too many fall from great and good

For you to doubt the likelihood.



Die early and avoid the fate.

Or if predestined to die late,

Make up your mind to die in state.



Make the whole stock exchange your own!

If need be occupy a throne,

Where nobody can call you crone.



Some have relied on what they knew;

Others on simply being true.

What worked for them might work for you.



No memory of having starred

Atones for later disregard,

Or keeps the end from being hard.



Better to go down dignified

With boughten friendship at your side

Than none at all. Provide, provide!