Michael

I used to dream of saving him when the world turned suddenly mean, Wacko jacko, boy in the bubble, keeper of a time machine.

To a desert island, we then stole away and there I heard all his troubles and helped them melt away.

We talked of how things used to be before they'd gone to far, before the tabloid fodder began to tarnish up his star. I gently reassured him that this kind of thing can't last they'll see the error of their ways and you will see at last....Away from all the madness I prayed heartaches would cease and he would come to know again the precious thing called peace. 

But I was only dreaming there was nothing I could say, he suffered most in silence as the world made him it's prey. Right now though there is heartache in some strange and mournful way I hope he's found that peace he's sought when taken home today!