To A Wild Rose

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This piece tell's of the tragic screen goddess of the 20th Century, who dedicated her life to the media. Born to Gladys Baker in 1926, raised in foster homes, and later reborn in the studios of MGM, she grew from nothing...to eternal fame. To the memory of Norma Jean Mortensen; the future Marilyn Monroe.

Submitted: April 18, 2011

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Submitted: April 18, 2011

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Who ever thought that beauty passes like a dream?
At least, I know I didn’t
But beauty has passed nonetheless
And Norma Jean is gone
I lay awake some nights
Keeping company with memories;
Memories that were never mine
Adieu, my Iron Butterfly
I hope you’ve gone to a land
Of bliss

Before the eyes of heaven, she slept
Eternal rest, grant unto her, o Lord
Our thoughts go with you, Marilyn
Truly, our sweetest songs are those
That tell of saddest thought
And someday, I too shall sleep
Though moons are full
And stars are bright

What a gentle soul she had
Gentle in life
And forgiving in death
She said nothing about the agonies
She had once suffered
Despite the odds against her
She was still a cheerful girl
Oh! How I love her!
(Even if for nothing…
Then for her yellow hair)
All she ever demanded 
Was her right to twinke
Grant her this much, o Lord
I beseech thee


 


© Copyright 2020 Sir Koby. All rights reserved.

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