Fame

The following poems/thoughts all deal with basically the same idea: fans and how they deal and interact with their objects of affection.

What do you see ...
What do you see, when you look at me?
---I see someone trying to understand the world around them.
What do you see, when you see me on TV?
---I see someone trying to show the world their okay.
What do you see, when you see me with a fan?
---I see someone making another's day.
What do you see, when you see me help someone?
---I see someone making it better in the world.
What do you see, when you see me in photographs?
---I see someone doing their best to hide behind a mask.
What do you see, when you see me perform?
---I see someone doing what they do best.
What do you see, when you see me in concert?
---I see someone giving all they've got.
What do you see, when you see my schedule?
---I see someone giving their life away.
What do you see, when you see me looking directly at you?
---I see someone who has pain and sadness in their eyes.
What do you see, when you see me standing all alone?
---I see someone who wants to be loved for whom they are on the inside, not who they portray on the outside.

What you don't see is that deep down inside, I'm really just like everybody else.
This was supposed to be like the celebrity was asking the fan questions and then the fan's answers.

The Real Me
What would the fans say if I just disappeared for a while?
Would they come looking for me?
Or would they let me disappear in peace?
Would they really want to know why I had to go?
Would they care that everything they thought about me could all turn out false?
Would they really want to know that I had to go because of them?
That I had to go so they wouldn't be there to see me breaking apart . . .
. . . So they wouldn't see the real me.

Fans
Do you think they understand?
Do you even understand why?
Why?
Why you adore them and cherish them?
Why you hold them so high above, as though they were gods?
Do you think they care?
Do you even care?
Do you?
Do you think they even will remember you?
Do you think you will remember them?
Will you?
Will you remember them?
Will you think of them when they are long gone from the spotlight?
Or will you forget about them?
Forget about everything they meant to you?
Are they destined to forever remain on the back burner of memories long and forgotten?
Are they?

Prices Of Fame
Why do they stare?
Why do they scream?
Why do they scare?
Do they do this all for them?
The ones who make them happy.
Is this how they are repaid for all their hard work?
By being followed, hounded, stalked.
Do they deserve this treatment?
Do they deserve to have no privacy?
I don't think they do.
So why does it continue?

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