BUD.

The day is a little longer today,
And will not end the way
Of the previous one;
Marlon has gone,
And nothing will ever be
The same.

Nothing will be sustained,
And no one will play the game
As it used to be played,
Or replayed.
Brando is dead,
When we forgot he was here;
Shame on our heads.

The day is little older today,
As youth has forever lost its saviour
To another place
Where its eternal face
Looks out from behind
His name.