Michael Jackson
MICHAEL JACKSON
-----------------------------------------------------------
They called him a wacko,said he's a cracko;
But on the dance floor,he made them go loco.
He was nicknamed smelly,gyrated his belly;
But he danced like his birth was from a can full of jelly.
Born at number seven will he enter in heaven?
Or just be forgotten like some beaten eleven?
Crooning in paradise or tooning in hell?
Questions unanswered,we want someone to tell.
Was it the doctor who thumbed the door bell?
Was it some drug that rang his death knell?
With loads of talent he did abound,
But couldn't make it to that final round.
It's so sad he had to die,
Depriving fans of that final goodbye.
This genius who did the moon walk here,
Is now hopefully doing it in another sphere.
With his crotch grabbing,anus stabbing,sodomising way,
He was criticised globally for being so gay.
They claimed the young lads he did make lay,
But like a small little child he only wanted to play.
From the Jackson five to being no longer live,
As a music maestro he had unholy drive.
With a journey besot with I don't know what,
Everything came to a gigantic nought.
He began a career "OFF THE WALL"
Became "BAD"and fell to propofol,
If only he'd realised whether "BLACK OR WHITE",
Death is something which is God's sole right.
Life no doubt turned out quite a "THRILLER"
Thinking you're 'INVINCIBLE"can be such a killer.
God doesn't mind a lot of skit,
But for Jacko the wacko he said "THIS IS IT"
-------Prince Freakasso {Artist and Poet}
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
