The Boy Who Would Be King (a poem for Michael Jackson)

by Holly Blue

Never grew up;

Never wanted to.

It was Time's curse - yet

He was not convinced 

Of it's reality;

Rebelling against something he

Had no concept of; wasn't allowed to,

Only allowed to disengage,

So that was all he did.

Never did he consider 

This bitter fame -

Knowing to all;

Never blaming once

The longevity of a father's mistake.

Innocently tried out his own name,

Set his own stage and dressed

Up his own mind; excitement 

All child-like.

With the sparkle in his eye

And a voice of no return; no reason to wait -

He brought the moon to

The earth (saying "Hah"),

Then walked on it.

Now, that's grace!

One man's decision to 

Defy gravity and everyone was

Swept off their feet;

The crowds gathered, their

Voices buzzing like a din of bees 

Ready to sting;

Said "Take this crown, it will 

Fit you well."

That thrill of the love 

Cringed for, unwavering, heard 

In his ear

Shyly smiled, whispered -

"Now I am King?"

 ~ June 26, 2009