By the Ghost Harbor Depths Bureau
She was ghosted like a vapor,
And left without a sound
Said it was honor, integrity,
But it smelled like background.
Claimed virtue over vanity,
But her mirror cried fame,
Her inbox flooded with follow-backs
And blue-tick acclaim.
Spoke of morals like scripture,
Chose hashtags for her hymns,
But loyalty got throttled
When the checklists looked slim.
She preached principles-righteous,
Said “I won’t compromise,”
But her exit cue was greenbacks
Shaped like dollar signs.
Built bridges with her bio,
Burned ‘em with a brand deal,
Turned silence into gospel
To boost her highlight reel.
Integrity was her costume,
Tailored for applause,
But behind the stitched convictions
Was a thirst with no pause.
Now she’s posing on platforms
Where truth’s just a theme
A cameo crusader
In pursuit of the dream.
So keep your receipts, beloved,
Keep your grace and your flame.
Some leave with halos,
Others chasing name.
This ain’t hate, it’s clarity,
A verse with no disguise
Even ghosts leave footprints
When they monetize their lies.