Star constellations glitter like sequins in your eyes,
but like every star you burned out,
burned out too fast, burned out too young.
Norma Jean you were a kaleidoscope on a spin,
an emotional typhoon that crashed, dipped and climbed
in search of a dream that embraced you at night.
Posters and pictures adorn walls of millions
engraving that longed for acceptance in the fabric of time.
Scouring Hollywood to emulate you,
oblivious to see the signs to guide them.
The platinum hair is a halo,
we will find you among the angels.
1 comment:
this is gay a'f xD
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