The man of the hour
The man with the wings
Flown over the city
Watching us, crying about unimportant things,
He shot bullets of joy
Over those who were sad
Leaving dust of happiness
If you want some, come and grab...
But what about him?
The angle in the sky
Why can't he take some dust,
And simply smile?
All of his life, made everyone glad
Came home and cry
Thinking about his loneliness, desperate from the hollow
life he had,
No one to kiss, no one to hug
He started to talk to his brown-black bug
"I'm all alone" he said
"Unlike the other angels" he compared,
"What should I do?" he started to cry,
But the bug without saying a word,
Spread his wings and fly.
The angle got mad, the bug flown to his nest,
He took his gun and pointed to his chest
Pulling the trigger, hearing a quite "click"
He forgot to load, "where are the bullets?? Quick!"
After hours of searching, he eventually quit
Wandering how to put an end to his life,
He remembered, "I have a poison kit!"
Going up the stairs he realized he made a mistake
"Dying is wrong! There are many happy people to make!"
Running back, down the wet stairs
He tripped, he fall, on a couple of chairs
Broke his neck, flown for eternity back to the sky
Since then, the world is sad, but only you and me know why