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#adulation
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.
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 11:48 AM UTC
Your Love is Borg.
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
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Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 7:26 AM UTC
A little bit more
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
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May 8, 2012
May 8, 2012 at 8:21 PM UTC
Prisoners
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
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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.
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Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Mondays
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
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
Sleeping skin
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
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
Streets of Fame