Someone hope
Has been built
On a false bed
Since beat it
Was a tune
Laying in my head
Since I was a lad
Remember when
The white-gloved one
Would slide backwards on the floor
Was he truly bad
Was this his real image
Or a well-defined
Carbon copy
Watch hope fly
Away like his thrilling
Album sales
The troubled king and I
Just my thoughts way back
I once adopted
He had truly popped
Out of existence
Where is Elvis
No more
Charts he would top
Was he real Mr. Paul McCartney
Someone said
He died long ago
Once a heart-throb
To women
Of classic rock
Rumors of him
Still echoes
Of him being a robot
Does this ever stop
When entertainers
Flamboyantly display
Next question
Are they truly gay
When most hides
Behind a fake bravado
Insuring their pockets
Are lined like they
Had recently won the lotto
Should I let go of my inquiries
My thoughts I can’t stand
Made for TV
More like made up
For television we don’t see the truth
But we feel its lies
Most of your favorite
Entertainer are wearing a disguise …
I advise hearken to the wise
There are no stars in heaven
One day you may rise
Feel complete and esteemed
In your achievement of your
Flight in our earth open skies
By Deon Souldier Ballard
