Sadness is crimson red, leaking from the skin;
He smells like gasoline; and tastes like cool liquor sliding down your throat. 
His mother is like black oil, coming and leaving with deadly amounts.
While his father, is like a warm summer breeze not rough, but comforting.
Sadness carries welting lilies in his pocket,
Maroon Convers tied securely on his feet.
His best friend is like the mountains,
Cold… sturdy… Distant…
His black- blue hair hangs in his face like vines from the amazon, his green eyes staring intently at by passers.
Curious… Firm… Dominant…
He eats fear for breakfast;
And pain for dessert.
His dream is to be free of society, and its flaws.
Sadness loves distressed lonely people,
He moves like a lion stalking its pre,
Silent… Low… Ready to pounce…