Gaily we laugh and joke
At the little old bloke
Who walks around without a care
Yet we cannot help but stare

A crooked smile, old is he
Such an odd sight to see
With missing teeth in his mouth
He shouts around at us, in a long-winded route

Yet, the crazy old fool
And realize without a warning still
As then we get killed
By butterflies that fly to hurt at his will

How foolish we were to laugh at this man
For once he gets angry, kill us he can!



Penned by my hand on the 4th of Chronos, in the year 469 AF.