Affable laughs glide on his throat,
they believe he's fine even if he won't.
Timidly shaking, he's achingly happy,
draining himself just to descend to the concrete,
he eternally casts his eyes with a sapphire glow.

Leave him on the sidewalk,
they move on; but he's not.
Marigold grows from his chest,
but all they see is Narcissus,
he lived very little; though it felt like a lot.

Orange was his heart,
watered from the counterparts.
Puddled with the anguish,
eventually it vanished,
I know it's quite bazaar;

but honestly,
that's his better days
by far--