The Summer He Left - By Mohan N. Roache

The Summer He Left

The summer he left brought the loneliest atom, and bred the coldest winter
Spring came, but nothing bloomed,

Then summer came again, but without sunshine.
The sea never met the sand at the bay,
The birds were muted and the wind ran away.

Tears forever being shed,
Because the thriller king is dead.

R.I.P Michael Joseph Jackson

- Written By: Mohan N. Roache

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