Robin Williams 8.12.2014

Robin Williams

 

This poet has created thoughts,

Written about, mourned stars.

Celebrities, the famous,

Whatever you would call them.

Often? No,

But death is final,

Settled, irrefutable.

One weeps inside.

 

They were the talented of talented.

A genie lived within.

With some it’s self-destruct time,

Still in prime time,

Slow killing self time,

Now it’s Will –i- am but Will-i-was time.

Tragedy untraceable;

Calamity that breaks the hearts of we

Who hung on every joke,

And body language; every

Silly, childish, cuckoo, kooky,

Masterly device, driven by talent’s need to

Spread itself and share.

Robin destined for the silver screen

Celebrity, the maelstrom of renown.

This poet’s shorn of tears.

 

Robin Williams 8.12.2014

Birth, Death, & In Between II; Special People, Special Occasions;

Arlene Corwin

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