The Transformation

A narrative poem about Michael Jackson's life so far. [NOT ABOUT SURGERIES] Mainly about how he not only lost his childhood, but when trying to remake his childhood in his adult life, the young soul inside him (don't pervert that) was ripped out of him.

It started with a glance
A dance and taking a chance
Nine children later and no money to spare
A steel-mill worker and a housewife declare
"Something must be done - we're in despair!"
Just as he formed them, he would mold and scold them
All she could do was sit and condemn him

One fateful afternoon, a command was given
To which the obedient boy honored with joy
A voice was heard down the hall
An angel was singing; its voice - big, yet small
A peak past the corner made her realize
The silence of the young boy's nature held a talent in disguise
The stubborn father was convinced to listen
His hesitant and hard heart no longer stiffened
As he listened to the boy, a smile glistened

As the boy moved with grace, so did his brothers
A secret was beneath the smile that fooled others
Fame and fortune stole away what he had once been
The painful secret thrived and survived within

After abuse and hard work, he took his chance
He departed from agony and took his stance
The boy was free from troubles and soon would advance
Fame and fortune grew for the boy
But the painful secrets still haunted him in his song and dance

An expanse of land would bring him true joy
He ran and pranced with the bliss of a young boy
In his state of merriment, their wisdom he chose to avoid
But this course of action he soon would regret
For the joyous visits would soon become a threat
He did not see through the ones with the biggest smiles, the idle jabbers
Yet, it carefully disguised that they were the backstabbers
The devils, infected with the same disease of lust, gluttony and greed

Though pieces of the boy's naivete were replaced with cunning wit and a wise soul
The boy still remained, though as rough as coal

Years passed, peace came
Though his fame was still filled with blame
His heart still pained for the children in need
Hoping no longer would their dear souls bleed
Ten years had passed since that fateful time
Once again the soul was accused of a monstrous crime
Lies flew and the true natures erupted from their calloused and empty souls
The lies ran sprints, but the truth won the marathon; it achieved its goal

Though set free like a bird in the comforting warm air
Though others celebrated, they were aware
The heavy-hearted man had traveled up the stairs
All day and all night he sulked in his room
All that was in him were feelings of gloom
The realization was there, in the grieved man's heart
The forced transformation was complete, the two had now part

Author's Note

"In his state of merriment, their wisdom he chose to avoid" refers to Quincy Jones (producer of Off the Wall, Thriller, and Bad... along with many other great achievements) telling Michael he shouldn't be so naive and shouldn't have kids sleeping over, before 1993. Quincy Jones has been quoted saying Michael is one of the most wise people he's ever met, yet also the most naive.

"He did not see through the ones with the biggest smiles, the idle jabbers
Yet, it carefully disguised that they were the backstabbers
The devils, infected with the same disease of lust, gluttony and greed"

These lines are my own take on Michael Jackson's song, "Money," which most of that is sort-of quoted from (I changed the wording, but if you look at the lyrics and you look at that section you can tell what I mean)

"The lies ran sprints, but the truth won the marathon" is a slight change on Michael Jackson's quote, "Lies run sprints, but the truth runs marathons. The truth will win this race in court."

The very last section is a reference to Michael's relatives talking to a news network on the day of the acquittal saying that although they hosted a party at Neverland, Michael just went up to his room and didn't come down for the rest of the day.

Reviews

[John Taylor]

I think Michael Jackson is a whack-job and should be locked up for life, but I have to admit, when he was actually black, he was one cool brutha. "Thriller" is not only one of the best albums of the 1980s, but one of the best albums of all time.

This was a very good poem. Strong writing, strong organization; what more could one need in a poem?

[Jonathan Burns]

Michael Jackson has to deal with two terrible mental disorders: homosexuality and pedophilia. He should have been treated years ago.

[Brandon]

Very nicely worded and written. Great Job

[Kim]

I think you could eliminate the very last line and not change the ones before and it would be very powerful. You set the stage earlier in the poem about him transforming, so that last line would be fitting. It is a powerful piece, one that some may not agree with, but it says a lot and makes one think. I think it had a good flow and rythem to it. I enjoy pieces like this that are thought provoking. Well done