A poem about the king of rock n' roll a.k.a. Elvis Presley.
My ghost now supposedly wanders to where, I just will not tell.
I had a twin brother that died at birth...
My mother i dearly loved had died and i had had her put beneath
the grave sight's earth.
I smiled my sneer into the camera, while'st singing to a Teddy Bear...
The money kept rolling in from the sale of my records.
I had kissed Anne Margaret and Marilyn Monroe on the cheek.
I shot many tv screens showcasing the talented songs of the Beatles...
Their music got under my skin like many sharp pointy, syringed needles.
My drug habit almost got me thrown into a Jail House Rock...Not Hard Rock Cafe.I bought Caddy's for complete strangers out on the street...
Teenagers danced to my music's own Rock-A-Billy beat.
I enjoyed the skies that were colored a nice Blue Hawaii.
My father would never mispell my middle name on my tombstone...
I am still alive in hiding in Buonas Aires, and totally living alone.
A price was put on my head, So my coffin was filled with a waxed dummy controlled by a refridgerated encasement...
I no longer reside at my Memphis mansion's very own basement.
I once sang to a sad looking Basset Hound...
No more new songs by me, will there ever be heard my deep voiced
sound.
No more singing to that stupid looking Basset Hound.On that island so far away-I go by the name of Mr.John Burroughs.I'm making more money while being dead, than alive...
My children and Granchildren will be left well to do and materially survive and thrive.
I've been spotted eating out of a bucket, pieces of chicken...
It's been reported that my fingers what was i had been seen, lickin'.
I was 'The King of Rock and Roll...
I started it all, i've been tole'.
Poetry by Michael Jeffrey Gale
Read 351 times
Written on 2006-11-17 at 23:01
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A Blue Suede Heart Break From Life.
I shook my hips down at Heart Break Hotel...My ghost now supposedly wanders to where, I just will not tell.
I had a twin brother that died at birth...
My mother i dearly loved had died and i had had her put beneath
the grave sight's earth.
I smiled my sneer into the camera, while'st singing to a Teddy Bear...
The money kept rolling in from the sale of my records.
I had kissed Anne Margaret and Marilyn Monroe on the cheek.
I shot many tv screens showcasing the talented songs of the Beatles...
Their music got under my skin like many sharp pointy, syringed needles.
My drug habit almost got me thrown into a Jail House Rock...Not Hard Rock Cafe.I bought Caddy's for complete strangers out on the street...
Teenagers danced to my music's own Rock-A-Billy beat.
I enjoyed the skies that were colored a nice Blue Hawaii.
My father would never mispell my middle name on my tombstone...
I am still alive in hiding in Buonas Aires, and totally living alone.
A price was put on my head, So my coffin was filled with a waxed dummy controlled by a refridgerated encasement...
I no longer reside at my Memphis mansion's very own basement.
I once sang to a sad looking Basset Hound...
No more new songs by me, will there ever be heard my deep voiced
sound.
No more singing to that stupid looking Basset Hound.On that island so far away-I go by the name of Mr.John Burroughs.I'm making more money while being dead, than alive...
My children and Granchildren will be left well to do and materially survive and thrive.
I've been spotted eating out of a bucket, pieces of chicken...
It's been reported that my fingers what was i had been seen, lickin'.
I was 'The King of Rock and Roll...
I started it all, i've been tole'.
Poetry by Michael Jeffrey Gale
Read 351 times
Written on 2006-11-17 at 23:01
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
