Death of a Singing Diva

You cried out to us through your songs

Your life played out before us

As if you had a choice in the matter

We saw you slowly crumble,

Sometimes stumble,

Many times mumble,

As we watched with bated breath

It seemed as if you had it all

Beauty,

Money,

Fame,

And that voice, Spun like silk

Could have made angels cry

Much too young to die so soon

We were supposed to be given many more years by way of your lyrics

But now you’re gone

The world loved you more than you loved yourself

You loved your addiction more than anything else

Eventually you allowed it to exhume you

Steal your soul

First comes the rise

Then the fall

It’s always harder when you’re coming down

Especially off that smack high, 

crack high, 

alcohol or prescription high

Are You a Billy Holiday

Or a Marilyn Monroe

How about a Whitney Houston

A Janice Joplin perhaps

An Amy Winehouse for sure

All of whom sang the Blues

Begging to be rescued

Underlying messages woven into the notes of your music

Fell upon deaf ears

Even when your heart bled tears

We only wanted you for what you had to give

Made us believe that we too could sing,

Even if we couldn’t hold a note to save our lives

That’s what singing Divas do

Voices flow so effortlessly

But why die so young and so tragically

And then just like magic

You disappear

And that voice, Spun like silk

That could have made angels cry

Is now hushed,

To just an echo in the wind.

~Angel-Ahhh