March 01, 2005 at 12:00 am
Poem, G (All)
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The dim lights of hundreds of candles
Filled the platforms as he crooned
On a stage full of foreboding lilies
‘Jesus don’t want me for a sun beam’
And ‘Come as you are’
Always make me well up with tears
We all really lost it at the news of his demise
And some tried to follow
In his wake of destruction
Did he really do this to himself?
Could he have under the heroin abyss,
That most would have overdosed on?
Could he have had the faculties?
To pull that trigger?
‘No I don’t have a gun’ he sang
Or was it some foul play to ride the tale coats
Of one of the most gifted artists
The world will ever know?
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