Michael Jackson
When I think about Michael, my eyes start to tear
He never learned to love, the man in the mirror
His gifts Thriller and Bad, made him the king of pop
A true innovator, creating the moon walk
That dirty Diana, never gave him a kiss
He was a smooth criminal, we were the witness
Loved by many millions, he lived behind his gate
Neverland his prison, prescription pills his fate
A life not fully lived, too soon came to an end
He preferred fantasy, a strange world of pretend
He started to early, wanted to be a child
A part of him missing, his talking voice so mild
Still whenever he sang, he created fashion
What could ever compare, with that kind of passion?
He continues to dance, an image on our screen
He was one of a kind, the best I've ever seen
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2012
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