I Cried My Soul Out by Shontelle

I remember being a little girl, and my grandma would take video tapes of Michael Jackson performances and music videos. I swear that was all I watched all day, whenever I was at my grandma's house. I didn't get his crotch grabbing but I loved it! It was so dramatic whenever he did it. And the way he would slide across those huge stages with pyrotechnic backdrops; I wanted to do that. I saw smiles and tears on faces of all ages in those massive, screaming crowds. I took my mom's lipstick and wrote on the mirror, 'Music.Is.Life' to remind me everyday, where I wanted to be. Who I wanted to be. Michael Jackson was not just the Pop King, he was the King of Catharsis. He was therapy for so many. Hope. Inspiration. Motivation. Comfort. A voice for those who could not be heard through the noise of the world. They needed a King. A King to speak for them because the world would listen to him. And many did. I don't even have to get into his accolades (which are obviously endless).