Eulogy For Michael Jackson Poem by Edwina Reizer

All of the glory, all of the fame
everybody knew his name.
But they did not know what made him tick.
And they did not know how it made him sick.
Inside the body that housed his soul
were shades of darkness that accompanied his role.
The vibrancy and talent of all he could do
was a gift that only comes to a few.
But the gift must be nourished and never abused
or it turns into a curse that becomes misused
by all of the parasitic leeches who prey
on a talent like Michael's every single day.

And in the final words that are said
He, my friends was already dead.
Dead in his spirit, dead in his mind
only alive in those who could find
the rarity of talent that captured their heart,
the oneness with God that flowed through his art.
What they will remember is what they did see.
What they'll forget is 'Who was he? '
A tortured soul
who's now at rest.