Everybody likes him
when he comes
walking down
the morning streets
solid and fresh.
Everybody likes him
stumbling drunk
with his red
crying eyes
rushing
the night
within him,
Only to find him
a few hours later
laughing
and surrounded
by listeners.
Everybody
that loves him
still wonder
why he does it.
Why is it
that morning
after morning,
behind his
sunglasses,
clean shave
and slick hair
he walks down
the morning streets
pretending to be
so solid
and fresh
when everybody
that knows him
can smell
the wasted dragon
in his breath.
Everybody likes him
Except for those
Who love him
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