Paris (Tribute To Michael Jackson) - Poem by JAMES T. ADAIR

Paris is the City of Love
A favorite of Michael
The one with the white glove
Who cared about the world
Of it's people
Of God up above
Who shared with the world
The gifts that were on him bestowed
He used his life to try to pay back
Everthing that he felt was owed
And in doing so he gave us so much
Opened the doors for others
So they could walk without a crutch
Watching his memorial ceremony
Was at times on me too much for me
I wished that he too was alive to see
The outpouring of love from his friends
But the best testimony was saved for the end
His little girl Paris took to the mike
And her voice and his were so much alike
In her soft voice she spoke and cried these few words:
'I just want to say... ever since I was born.... daddy has been the best father you can imagine. And I just want to say I love him so much.'
And the tremble and tears and sadness said so much more
than any or all of it before
That moment I felt the depth of his passing
It's effect on the little girl: Paris,
Who missed him even more

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, July 7, 2009

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