Michael Jackson - Poem by AaI Harvey
Michael Jackson is guilty, said all but the jury;
Michael paid off the children, to say 'He never touched me.'
So grab your crotch and scream like a girl,
Then sell a billion records, have fifty number ones.
This is the way, to become a god in this world,
For the untouchable Michael, who everybody loves.
I'm a bad surgeon’s creation,
It doesn't matter if I'm black or white,
But he's been somewhere in between, all of his life.
His dad made him feel bad, for having a big nose,
So the surgeon chopped it off, so the bad feelings would go.
Did he have plastic surgery, on his entire body?
Is this what made Michael, become somebody?
In Neverland it’s real, but the real world is strange,
Michael never grew up and he never changed.
The child prodigy, who went on to fill his potential,
Is a figure of hatred, a figure of evil.
If he's guilty, then he shall be judged,
By a much higher power, than any of us.
If he's innocent, he's not real, he can't still be a kid,
But he can afford to not grow older and live like a king.
His face will never change, unless he needs a hit of surgery,
Peter Pan or Michael Jackson, which is it to be?
What really happens, on the Neverland ranch?
Who has all the answers, so we can fill the front page?
Is he forever blowing bubbles and is he as rich as we think?
Does he realise he's crazy and with whom does he sink the pink?
Did the doctor chop off his balls,
to make him a modern day castrato?
To keep his high pitched voice in tune,
so his high voice wouldn't go.
What’s his sexuality? Is he straight, bi or gay?
To pay off a child’s accusations, how much did he pay?
Who decided the cost, to let him settle out of court?
And does this prove the general myth,
that anything can be bought?
(C) 2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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