“If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” - Marilyn Monroe

Arthur Miller married Marilyn Monroe for some misguided reason that all his words failed to explain. She married him many say as she searched for the perfect Father figure.


He had searched amongst the dreamers as they came to show the way
With their tattered clothes and promises they were still well behaved
It was justice that they looked for but they were still enslaved
And noone had a route back to the sixties

She’d been born to wear her kindness hidden from the light
She only seemed to offer love in tiny little bites
But he still took the nourishment it offered at first site
Only later would he see it led to hunger

I’ll take you to my caravan its parked beside the road
Where the gypsies kindly left it when they found I had no home
But despite their act of kindness and all the love they showed
It only gave me shelter for a short time

How simple are the choices to get from A to B
But somehow it’s confusion that’s the only air we breath
And lost amongst the crevices we cannot see the seeds
That are planted to entice us but infact are only weeds