Marilyn

How thin that beauties casing shell, the out of town, a country girl  
from the class of 26, she turned heads, how coy her pose and the magnet of her walk, the chirping birdsong of her voice  
  
The platinum that others saw, and the profit they could draw for her roots were they that deep? did the nut come from a whatever tree  
Just window dressed for the winters sale where self doubt thrives in the wind and hail  
 
Courted by the fickle rich, the spotlight shines with no OFF swich, painted hues that Warhol etched the tinted canvas of her moods  
Just to cover all the cracks, the perfect face, the mind confused  
 
Playwrights, politicians, was it just a boring deal, how fast the spin of that treadmill, when fames drawstring wraps you up and pulls you in, entrapped,  
the wind that blows from the open vent, billows her skirt, that image, lives on yet  
 
An Icon's flame flicker as Reg Dwight sings, the diamond's facets just fools gold,  limitations bling  
In the quicksand of her life, stability the foothold always near, enticed  
the struggle comes at a deadful price  
 
Norma Jean Baker cast her dreams, to a moon made of paper  
tread a star spangled tightrope, became a celluloid idol  
in that naked moment she felt suicidal  
 
The foetal curl as she overdosed, that bright star; just self implodes  
on silver screen to end  the show,  the Safety Curtain sticks; and will never close