GONE TOO SOON

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GONE TOO SOON

GONE TOO SOON

BY CAROLY E. HOPKINS

 

 

AS A CHILD, HE WAS CUTE, BROWN, AND WIDE-EYED;

A NINE-YEAR OLD SINGING LIKE A SEASONED

LOVER WHO HAD LOVED AND LOST.

HE WAS OUR RHYTHM AND HOPE AND PRIDE WITH TALENT UNMATCHED.

 

MICHAEL WAS GONE TOO SOON.

 

LIKE A CANDLE FLAME THAT BURNS TOO BRIGHTLY AND THEN SUDDENLY DIES,

 

HE WAS GONE TOO SOON.

 

HE AND HIS BROTHERS, AFRO-WEARING, BAD-ASSED BLACK BOYS SHOWED THE WORLD JUST HOW BEAUTIFUL BLACK IS, AND THEN

 

HE JUST WAS GONE TOO SOON.

 

WHEN THE NEWS WAS HEARD AROUND THE WORLD IT STOPPED. IT SIMPLY DROPPED.

 

IT STOPPED SPINNING ON ITS AXIS FOR A DAY OF MOURNING, A DAY OF LONGING, AND A DAY OF SADNESS.

CRIES OF UNBELIEF AND DENIAL WHAILED, WHILE REFLECTING IN PAIN ON WHAT HE MEANT TO OUR LIVES, OIR EXISTENCE AND HOW HE WAS SOMEHOW INEXTRICABLY LINKED AND WHY HE LEFT US WITHOUT A NOTICE.

 

BUT, WE TOO ARE NOT WITHOUT GUILT; WE BELIEVED THE LIES AND WE TOO, LET HIM DOWN.

 

NOW, HE IS GONE TOO SOON.

KNOWING THE COMFORT OF HIS BIZARRE PRESENCE, HE BROUGHT US THE ASSURANCE THAT, THE KING OF POP, WOULD ALWAYS BE THERE NO MATTER WHAT ANTICS HE PLAYED TO AROUSE US.

WE NEEDED HIM IN A WORLD LIKE THIS ONE.

WE NEEDED HIS SPONTANAEITY, WE NEEDED HIS GOD-GIVEN TALENT WHEN THE WORLD BECAME TOO MUCH TO HANDLE. WE NEEDED HIM.

BUT MOST OF ALL, MICHAEL NEEDED HIMSELF; HE NEEDED KNOW THAT BEAUTY IS A INNER THING AND THAT HE ALWAYS HAD BOTH.

 

WE NEEDED TO STOP THE LAUGHTER OF HIS TRANSFORMATION THAT NONE OF US UNDERSTOOD BUT THE TORMENTED SOUL THAT WORE THE SHELL OF AN EMPTY AND LONELY HEART. HE WAS A BEAUTIFUL BLACK MAN UNABLE TO BE FREE.

HE NEEDED US.

WHEN THE NEWS HIT, A THUNDERBOLD OF LIGHTNING; RUMBLED THE SKIES AND REVIVAL WAS NECESSARY. IT WAS A DEMAND.

LAZARUS RISE FORTH!

 

BY THEN, HE WAS GONE TOO SOON.

 

FRANTIC CRIES OF UNBELIEF THAT OUR ROYALTY HAD DIED SHATTERED OUR HEARTS AND WOUNDED SOULS.

THAT’S WHAT THE WORLD CAN DO TO OUR MOST PRECIOUS PEARLS. BREAK THEM LIKE SHATTERED GLASS.

WHEN HE GREW INTO A MAN, HE DECIDED HOW HE WANTED HIS LIFE TO BE, GOOD OR BAD, HE WAS IN CONTROL AND HE WAS BAD!

AS I SAT CRYING, UNABLE TO COMPREHEND OR CONCEIVE THAT MY TEENAGE CRUSH, MY HERO, MY JOY, MY MUSIC, MY LOVER, MY FRIEND HAD GONE TOO SOON I HAD TO RESIGN MY FEARS AND BE COURAGEOUS FOR “MICHAEL” THE ONE AND ONLY ‘MICHAEL.’

 

AFTER THE NEWS HAD SETTLED, AND SHOCK STILL HAD NOT INTERNALIZED, I SAT CRYING THAT AN ERA HAD COME TO AN END.

HANGING ON BY THIN NERVES AND FRAGILE DREAMS, HE ENDURED THE HUMILIATION OF A FADING STAR BETRAYED BY A EVIL WORLD. YET, HE ENDURED FOR THE MILLIONS OF FANS WHO JUST WANTED TO SEE HIM SMOOTHE HIS MOVES AND SING HIS SONGS.

I NOW REALIZE THAT HE HAD NOT LEFT US BUT JUST GONE TOO SOON.

 

EVERY DANCE MOVE, EVERY NOTE OF HIS SWEET, HARSH, GUTTERAL VOICE STRUCK A DEEP YEARNING TO BE LEFT ALONE BY A WORLD THAT HAUNTED HIS TALENT, DESTROYED HIS SPIRIT AND KILLED HIS FLAME.

 

MICHAEL, YOU WERE SIMPLY GONE TOO SOON.

 

AS I SIT HERE REMINISICNG, WONDERING WHY.

I STILL CRY BECAUSE NO ONE OR ANYTHING CAN BRING BACK THE STAR THAT SHONE THROUGHOUT THE WORLD,

AND WE ARE THE LOSERS, WE ARE THE CULPRITS, AND

WE ARE THE BLESSED

WHO WITNESSED AN ANGEL THAT WAS SIMPLY GONE TOO SOON.

 

 

REST IN PEACE, MICHAEL

 

LOVE ALWAYS.

 

 

 

 

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thejazzpoet commented on GONE TOO SOON

07-27-2009

An excellent composition. This tribute connected with me; as a baby boomer, growing up on the Jackson 5 and later following Michael as a solo artist; I truly felt violated and deprived by his death. His legacy is paramount to many of his fans, and your words so easily, (no matter how they hurt), captured the essence of who Michael was. As a poet/writer, I commend you on your courage and vision to place his memory in proper perspective. I was truly inspired , and will take his with me to my grave. Masterfully written.... thejazzpoet

LIZziepoo

07/31/2009

THANK YOU MY FELLOW POET. I HAVE TO BE INSPIRED WHEN WRIING POETRY AND MICHAEL WAS A PART OF MY LIFE INEXTRICABLY LINKED THROUGH HIS YEAR OF BIRTH AND MUSIC. I APPRECIATE THE HEART-FELT WORDS AND SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT..

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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