Poem: THE KING OF POP – A BALLAD

To those who yearn for an ode
As only, a bard can
Hearken!
Ye restless ones, longing for the rested,
Hearken!

An ode you wished! A ballad I give
Of a black boy wonder
Who entranced the world
Blacks, whites
With enchanted melody, and
Melodrama
Thrilling them

Hearken, ye mourning souls! Hearken!!
To a ballad
Of a young African-American
A handsome man
Who many moons ago
Taught the world, the scintillating art
Of Moon-walking!

Oh, ye my wistful people, hearken!
To a ballad
Of the King - of Pop
Who craved childhood
Like never before
So much so, that he lived
With little boys in
An amusement park!
Of a King
Who dreaded aging,
That he slept in
An Oxygen casket!

Hearken, ye discontent people! Hearken!!
To a ballad of a Blackman,
Deemed to detest his colour
So much so, that he morphed to a hideous ‘white’ man
Sacrificing his nose, and
Humanity!

Hearken, ye craving people! Hearken!!
To a ballad of a ‘white’ Blackman
An alleged child molester,
Deemed not humane enough,
Even to the cancer stricken!

A ballad of a middle-aged king
Sad, hurting, withdrawn, and
Drowning
In a pool of debts, and bills!

A ballad of frail king
With failing health
Who risked his life for a lifeline!
A ballad of a man
Who died trying to re-emerge!
A ballad of Michael Jackson (RIP)


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