In a New York court, a story's told,
Of Diddy's assistant, young and bold,
Mia testifies, with tears in her eyes,
Of the horrors she faced, and the power that compromised.
She worked for Diddy, eight years so fine,
But the job was toxic, with a chaotic design,
She had to anticipate, his every need,
And stay by his side, with no room to breathe or read.
She'd stay at his homes, with no lock on the door,
No freedom to leave, without his permission in store,
He was violent, and threw things with ease,
A spaghetti bowl hit her head, with a frightening breeze.
She witnessed his rage, towards his ex so dear,
Casandra Ventura, who'd become a friend so clear,
They'd run away, to the beach so bright,
And paddle boards, in the dark of night.
She'd try to escape, from his wrath so bold,
But feared his power, and the consequences so cold,
She'd pretend it never happened, the shameful deed,
But the truth she had to tell, in this courtroom so freed.
She's the second witness, to testify so brave,
Of Diddy's abuse, and the crimes he's to crave,
He's pleaded not guilty, to the charges so grand,
But the evidence mounts, like a heavy hand.
Mia's story's one, of fear and of pain,
Of a job that was toxic, and a boss so insane,
She's telling the truth, with a heart so true,
In this New York court, where justice will shine through.