The White Piano
A white piano was your mother's gift to you,
Shining, glistening, a symbol of hope and joy, you never knew,
Your life without your source and your father who didn't want to know, of course,
Your mother so delicate and fragile, couldn't last the extra mile,
Norma Jeane shy and alone, without a home,
You lived in the shadows as you chased the sun,
A photographer captured, a butterfly spirit full of fun and so rare,
Encouraging words, gave you the heart to dare.
Instead of looking at the world from the outside,
Suddenly you fitted into the cosmos,
You soared as the camera, embraced your soul, overcome with loss,
Tough times struggling to become a screen goddess,
Lovers helped you along the way with zest,
Smitten by your childlike charm,
So insecure because you were so pure.
Blossoming into a curvy blonde vision,
You set the screen alight, that was your mission
You now were not alone, but fear tripped you up,
No half measures, pills at your leisure,
No sleep, only dreams of days full of pleasure,
Your quest ended far to soon,
In a lonely, lonely room.
The world was full of gloom, for the tragic loss of Marilyn,
The white piano is stored away, it still plays a heavenly tune eternally,
Your image is everywhere, your song goes on with such iconic steps,
Immortality is yours,
Norma Jeane lives today, in her own unique way.
poem by Hazel Durham
Added by Poetry Lover
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