I'm so sorry
so sorry,
You finally fell apart
with no one to reassemble you.
The Genie who granted wishes,
Brought giggles, snorts and laugh-bursts,
Packed his bag and this time, really left the lamp.
Not wearing his tropical shirt.
Never to return to Neverland.
Apparently, the day took hold and,
in a non-comic twist,
The day seized you.
After all the ups you delivered,
the downers took you down.
Grounding Peter, dousing Doubtfire, closing Mork
and Outmoding Fender
who tumbles down the hill
rolling through Walt Whitman's leaves of grass.
Your funny funnies will never leave, glad and sadly so,
...that frowny-smile, the jewel-blue sparkle in your eyes,
...that voice, those voices, all three million of them, will
continue, a flicker-flame, happy-sad, in a Genie-less world.
and I think, I think you would want us to turn forward
and
keep laughing.
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