This sort of came to me… a little free form poetry for Whitney…
Surprised, no. Disappointed, yes.
So much, so young. So low, so fast…
Gifts wasted, lives broken.
Vocals soaring, ego falling.
From the heavens only cries and crawling
Wasted and wasted.
Shattered and broken.
The writing was certainly on the wall
No one it seems could stop the fall
Child caught in the crossfire
In the glaring lights
In her parents’ fights
What becomes of her?
Already deep in trouble and now lost
Fame comes at such a cost
The voice would never be the same
Lost in such an evil game
And in this town once that is gone
It’s hard for stars to still shine on
No one cares what’s in your heart
Just what numbers on the chart
And in a sick and twisted fate
Record sales will jump, you wait.
The praise, the songs, the tributes planned
Yet no one truly understands
The should have, could haves so easily said
But in the end the dream is dead
No more words… Two songs… Just listen… Once questions are answered… there will still and always be this. RIP.