MARILYN MONROE II
My life had become a whirlwind of light, as my face
started to appear across that silver screen;
I moved away from the darkness to stand up tall in
the spotlight, a once lonely girl, just living out her dream.
In December of 1953 the magazine Playboy printed
its first copy, and yours truly was on the front page;
The curtain on my world had finally been lifted, at
last my life was living on the centre stage.
Camera flashes make the red carpets shine, as the
following month I fell head over heels in love, Joe DiMaggio this verse is
dedicated to you;
I had finally found happiness, in the year of 1952.
We were married in San Francisco, on January the 14th
I had finally found my knight in shining armour, as
everywhere we went, another red carpet was laid out on the floor.
Marriage illuminated by the lime light was tough,
everyone knowing our secrets, papers busy printing my picture whether I cry or
The mirror is trying to convince my reflection I am
still the real me inside, I guess even stars can live in denial.
I was living on cloud 9 until I fell down in September
1954, I was asked to attend a photo shoot, and to let the subway wind blow up
My Husband was standing in the crowd, as I watched
his jealousy turn into a violent stress.
Dragging me down the street as I cried, but his
anger had no remorse;
After just 8 months of marriage, we went our separate
ways, and once again I was filing for a divorce.
Surrounded by people who claim to care, but nighttimes
were the worse, so many tears drained away, trying desperately to heal this
I started to search for a message in a bottle, as
the sleepless nights tear my dreams apart.
My management employ doctors to feed me pills for
breakfast, lunch and tea;
I feel like I am screaming into the darkness, but
for some reason nobody can ever hear me.
In 1956 I was tired of being lonely, I just didn’t want
to face the darkness all on my own;
In the July I met my future Husband Arthur Miller,
he made my heart melt away, after I thought my past had turned it into stone.
For a few years I felt that loving feeling again,
but those flashing cameras still kept me awake each and every single night;
The doctors fill me to the brim with sleeping
pills, as my dreams slowly fade away, just drifting out of sight.
Hours spent arguing with my Husband, as the spotlight
followed us at every turn, leaving us no place to run away and hide;
Another chance of happiness crumbles away, and no
one will ever know just how many tears that night I cried.
I can’t believe I am now 35 years old, whilst the
world blows a kiss goodbye to 1959, I wonder what next does fate have in store
A teardrop rolls down my cheek as I sign my name,
sealing the end of divorce number 3.
Sleeping pills are drowning in the champagne
bubbles, as therapists consult doctors, who try to figure out just how to patch
up a broken dream;
I felt like I was crying behind this mask of
make-up and blonde hair, I guess I was just missing Norma Jeane.
I was invited to perform at The White House in
1961, I remember the date,
It was the
19th of May;
The T.V cameras started to sweat, as I sung many
happy returns to our President, J.F.K.
Some things I can tell you, but there are also some
things that I can’t, heaven doesn’t rescue enemies of the state;
I am a strong believer in the saying “What will be,
will be”, you may call it destiny, but I will just call it fate.
Depression pulls me down, as behind these closed
doors the pills and alcohol fight against my pain;
I lay alone in a silent house, as my tears flow
across this bed like rain.
Through my teary eyes I see my dreams take the form
of these pills, lying spread out across my bed;
I stare into the mirror searching for the lost
Norma Jeane, But that part of me is already a long time dead.
My picture is on every front cover, but my shadow
casts an image of an angel about to fall from the sky;
My pills are now being chased down with even more
bubbles, as my tears refill the glass, each time that I cry.
All these empty pill containers roll off the bed,
as my eyes flicker in a dizzy haze, my body starts to get that sinking feeling;
I fall back onto my pillow, as I watch a new bright
spotlight gradually appearing through my ceiling.
The spotlight gets brighter, my pain fades away, as
I hear angels whisper that it’s time for me to go;
I may have started this journey as Norma Jeane, but
on August the 5th, 1962, I entered heaven as,
NORMA JEANE BAKER
1926 – 1962
BARRY MOWLES ©2011