XIV #2 – Poor Fellow

Heavy breathin’, walking on a stiff leg
O’er his frigid palm, a stem of rose
Rehearsing some lines with edgy mouth pegged
Trying to calm down by fixing his clothes
Excited and cavalier, he fell down
Nicking his shoe, soiling his yellow shirt
Scratched his knee on the asphalt, bruised his crown
“Err didn’t I, why t’is tough luck?” he blurt
“Everyday I readied, why’d heavens frown?”
Laid back on a bench, he mumbled his piece
A long, detailed speech ’bout his life in town
In the sea and the girl whom he’s with ease
“Zooty ain’t gonna work I guess” he said
And he stood up and continued to tread


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