Marilyn’s was Norma Jean.
Things are not always as they seem.
Skin she lived back of like some screen
kept her wonder in common view,
said what she did, you could too,
loved by many, touched by few.
She married heroes of all kinds
but no one seemed to know her mind,
none the secret key could find.
Scared kid, Norma Jean?
Are things really what they seem?
What is it that beauty means?
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