May 19, 2014

Marilyn


Marilyn left 
all too soon.
She made a wish
by the light of the moon,
knowing everything
was moving too fast;
she couldn't be
what we had asked.

She couldn't make up 
for our own
plain looks,
fulfill the longing 
in our eyes,
come bursting 
into our wildest dreams,
make us all over
with beautiful lies.
Ravaged by cameras
in he loneliest places, 
left a soft sadness
in all of her faces.

She was picked up and used 
by the king and his men,
who then refused her calls,
kept her away from him.
She sang his song,
but it was too late;
she died alone,
asleep by the phone,
never knowing his fate,
how his charmed life
would come to an end,
how no one could piece him 
together again.

5/1/2014