Our Poet, Mr Michael Jordan
Many a tribute is written
Only the writer knows why
The reason I'm writing this
He could have been goodbye
This Bakersfield boy
Smith Corner he graced
To lose his mother at 4
A young soul misplaced
Loving Grandparents
Filled an empty void
For the loss of a parent
Internal destroy
High School reached
Hooked on drugs
Degenerating body
Societies bug
He ended up here
And also there
To the age of 41
In hazed stare
An Angel was released
To look after her son
As he rose from his prayer
His new life begun
Then came the day
A son was reborn
In a town called Willows
The end of his storm
Another two Angels appeared
Michaela and Antoinette
His future path laid
All three, truly set
Mr Michael Jordan
I think your grand
You help your past
Now that's a stand
A leader, a gent
Poet and dude
To shake your hand
I wish i could
My tribute to a wonderful person whose life story always moved me.
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009
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