A man sits alone
Gray and well worn
"Catch me, I'm falling,"
He whispers.
His entire life
Made these last moments
Worthy to die for.
This is when he remembers.
No dud shooting star
To talk of.
He was immensely loved.
Untrotted Xs are mythical;
His dusty feet have
Stomped, have
Danced, have
Stood, have
Loved
All sorts of colours of our earth.
The stars and constellations
Have since remained his alibi.
Bomber moon nights
Reveal his hunger driven tracks.
Departing time after time
A little more changed and torn
On the inside,
But his fruits he will have left.
Satisfaction at his finest
Tears, smiles, eager ears
All the stories, All the love.
Happiness flowing like that of an ocean,
Constant.
Perplexed,
Then the always found
Reason.
Maybe you would understand.
