You just call me
Michael Jackson
And see the magic
Of spelling the name,
The rhythm of dance,
The beat of music,
My break dance,
The limbs breaking,
The shoulders swinging,
The legs shrinking,
The waist taking positions,
My boots slipping
And taking hold of the ground.
My hats on and off,
Upping and owning
And I juggling with sometimes,
the goggles on and of
And sometimes
I seeing you
With the four eyes,
The handkerchief into the hands
Or around the neck,
I a dancer
Under the magic and spell
Of the name
Of the great dancer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem