They never gave you a chance

To cry.

They’d laugh and when you’d break down

They’d ask,

“Why?”

Then they’d make their jokes

And laugh their laughs

You’d steal the stage

And do your dance

And people took it

For granted.

Now you’re underneath the soil—

Only then do people think of

Your pain, your turmoil.

Only then do they weep at themselves

And weep for you because you didn’t get

The life you deserved—

You were a person.

You were violated, misread, criticized.

Magazines drenched you with their lies.

Jokes were a tower, its bricks fell upon you

And all you could do

Was lie there and take it,

Lie there and fake it

And wish to be free.

And now you are free—

No more riots, no rage,

Or accusations made—

You are free to be Michael

That some people now

Wish they could see.

Funny how the dirt

Can change thoughts

So suddenly.