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Sara Kellie Jul 2018
So humble
and so demure.
Yet . . . . . . .
. . . . you still freak me the ****
out with everything you do.

You amaze me just so
you'll absorb me, I know.
Then we'll both become one.

I've been erased,
now (I'm) no-one.

Poetry by Kaydee.
By giving too much of yourself to
another you become a non-entity,
drifting without a name or an aim.
shana Jun 2016
I let the sun melt me
the moment you inverted
that bewitching eyes of yours

That jiffy makes my heart
pounding and longing
to get out of my rib cage

To have a glimpse
of a specimen
I used to love
and continue to keep up
the *adulation
Prisoners of their own success

Their world now micro-sized

Fan adulation to excess

Their love is just disguised

Their objects of affection

Live their lives inside a bubble

Leaving their prison, though it's self imposed

Could bring them worlds of trouble

A truck driver from Tupelo

A pop band from the 'pool

A superstar from Hoboken,

And one...the King of Cool

The superstar from Hoboken

Became the Chairman of The Board

If you made it into his 'rat pack'

You knew you'd really scored

His movies and his music

Made him the world's number one

But he had to minimize his world

When someone stole his son

His boy was kidnapped, truthfully

Back in 1965

And through his contacts in the mob

He got his son back home alive

This is the price of fame folks

Behind the glitter and the glam

They've got to have their safety

But the fans don't give a ****

Prisoners of their own success

Their world now micro-sized

Fan adulation to excess

Their love is just disguised

Their objects of affection

Live their lives inside a bubble

Leaving their prison, though it's self imposed

Could bring them worlds of trouble

The Memphis Mafia gave protection

To The King of Rock and Roll

But, by choice his world got smaller

And he went into a hole

He built a house in Memphis

To protect him from his fans

And thanks to Dr. Feelgood

He died a lonely, broken man

He couldn't live the life he earned

He was a prisioner instead

It's a shame he has more value

Now that he is dead

Prisoners of their own success

Their world now micro-sized

Fan adulation to excess

Their love is just disguised

Their objects of affection

Live their lives inside a bubble

Leaving their prison, though it's self imposed

Could bring them worlds of trouble

He'd a partner and was cool

He was suave and sang songs

And he worked with a "fool"

They conquered the nightclubs

They were known near and far

But his created alter ego

Lived his life at the bar

He ran with Frank Sinatra

He was the King of Cool

But when The Chairman started lessons

Dean was right there in his school

The Beatles broke in Hamburg

But way back in sixty two

Their bubble was just forming

There was nothing they could do

They lived their life behind the scenes

For when they did go out

The girls would all go crazy

And the world would twist and shout

Privacy came hard for them

They went four separate ways

These four young men from Liverpool

LIved life inside a maze.

It's sad that adulation

takes their freedom, makes them hide

But they're safer locked away from us

They're safer locked inside

Prisoners of their own success

Their world's  now micro-sized

Fan adulation to excess

Their love is just disguised

Their objects of affection

Live their lives inside a bubble

Leaving their prison, though it's self imposed

Could bring them worlds of trouble
Steele Sep 2015
Worn converses scuff the floor.
     The crowd sings, and they roar
     his name. Things aren't the same
     like anonymous Mondays before.

He pulls out his strings. Silence.
Steel vibrates and sings; Violence
erupts and again he hears his name.
It isn't the same... but he finds it
strangely fitting; On this stage
he's the benefactor and the tyrant.
He's the laughter, killing quiet.
It's not your average Monday
but no surprise, he finds he likes it.
JWolfeB Jan 2015
Her clavicle found me weak
Surrendered aside my confidence
Melting into each curve
Found under the sheets

We fell hard into tomorrow
Missing pieces of ourselves
Writing history in the dark
Telling stories about god
And freedom

Two things being discovered
In the gold rush of sleep in our eyes
Fixated upon allocated perfection
Her body spoke to mine
Amitav Radiance Sep 2014
The walk along the streets of fame
Streetlights illuminating the night
Dazzles are but fleeting moments
Adulation of the crowds will wane
Looking through the dark glasses
To fend off the bright camera flashes
Offered the spotlight by bright lights
They will switch off during the day
Temporary embellishments will disappear
With ease walk the streets
Where fame is just not a stereotype

— The End —