Of His Own

He knows not how to win
nor to break hearts asunder,
all he does is speak his mind
leaving the devil to wonder…

He gets alone wherever he is
and secretly cries his eyes out,
while enjoying the noise of a distant smile
calm as a cold and cold as a clam…

He is not what folks think
as they aren’t worth the trouble,
has no reason to do otherwise
for he tells no truth, he tells no lies…

He rises under the sun
and sweats in the noon,
kisses the sweet breeze
and sleeps with the moon…

He’s well aware of death
as well as the mysteries breathing beholds,
yet he wants to try his best
to keep his chin up when he falls dead…