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Marilyn Monroe
Young and innocent as I wait for discovery.
A glimpse of success peeks through the fortress door. A plain girl isn't enough for the Hollywood savages so sexy and mysterious is what I must become. I stand in awe as men swoon and try to win my heart, yet confidence overcomes me. Stop! This isn't me! I'm not perfect, or flawless. Hell, I'm not even blond. Seductive dresses conquer my body. Cameras film my envied figure. Strange lips on mine with no emotion. No emotion yet recognizing lust. Cries hidden behind sapphires surrounded by gold. Norma Jean where are you? Behind the scene? Drowning in makeup? Critics and judges dictate my world. Norma Jean! Help! She'd know what to say what to do. Pills are my refuge , my salvation. Blackness embalms me with a white light far away. I see Norma Jean waiting for me to follow. I race with my muscles straining, my stomach loops in a tangled knot of contusion. Tears stumble. As I turn to see my admirers immortalize me, I realize my whole time in my plastic bubble of everyone's fantasy I've immortalized myself. Posters, photos, movies, even shrines remain to show what I was or rather what I was thought to be. Please call me Norma Jean. Marilyn's on vacation. |
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Re: Marilyn Monroe
Your lines are EXTREMELY long, maybe you should cut them down a bit. Condense it to more lines, short lines.
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I’m in agreement with LH and FI, but know right away I’m not an expert on poetry. The lines could be condensed. The imagery was very effectual the emotions too were spine chilling(at least for me).
The title for me captured my attention so well done too that also.
__________________
Right, I'll keep to the present but just take a glance at the past. Damn, is this poetry?
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