I still recall when his hair caught on fire,
And still laugh loud when she sits on the lawn
And tries repeatedly just to inspire
A quiet moment to reflect on trees.
My sister loved MJ much more than I,
As girls. But I remember -- quelle suprise
Our skating in our dad's garage to my
Small turntable with Thriller on and more.
In later years, the freak show dwarfed the man
And Farrah sort of faded to decor:
Her poster long outlived her actual span
Within the public eye. I bid them peace.
At last the tabloids, flashbulbs for them cease.