How cruel
fate can twist.

I fear you fade;
an image
of someone's broken memory,
a voice
whispered in the silence,
a message
misread, misused, misplaced…
by your lovers,
by your survivors,
by the opportunists.

How unkind
these years can be.

But the soul
shines on.
Doesn't it,
don't we all,
didn't you believe,
didn't you teach?
It's lost.
Few still understand,
few still remember,
few still celebrate.
Maybe not everyone knows,
with no brand, no product, no sale
- not Elvis-ized,
not canonised
but man;
real, flawed, mortal.
But it's the spirit
that's important.
Isn't it,
weren't those your words,
wasn't that your work,
wasn't that your point?
It's missing.

How jaded
people can get.

But some have always tried
to understand,
and some will always continue
to celebrate.
Most of all, for some,
you will always be

For John Lennon's Birthday.