She lingered on the lips of men,
salacious thoughts for a Goddess,
yet beneath a frightened little girl, unseen,
the sorrow of misunderstanding
and separation, her lonely life of insecurity.
Each smile, each pose,
the betrayal of her dark thoughts,
lost in a world of men,
their desires her only connection,
yet all she wanted was to be loved.
Her fame and fortune was a lie,
a cheap trick she despised,
and no man seemed to hold her long,
for they were strong and she,
as a delicate flower, wilting.
The darkness that consumed
her was such a burden,
some days were spent in sleep alone,
until the stage called her back
her fated life and smile so shallow.
I loved her so, for what she was,
her kind soul and fragile life,
trapped in the web of millions,
unable to be free to know true love,
not the ownership that led her to despair.
And like a sparrow, bereft of flight,
she lay upon a bed in silent peace,
her torment ceased, yet what a loss,
a heart that simply wanted love, yet
she was so adored.
How I morn her passing,
a soul unworthy of the pain,
yet her path was like a shooting star,
so bright then stark in memory,
what she was so glorious.
Tony DeLorger © 2017