A young man, on a
    building top,
      meets his fate.
Uniting a divided
     nation, in
        their hate.
As agent of a
    failed assassin's
       plot,
or inept shooter, who
    missed, the head
       shot.

Because so few walked the path
    of climates, master,
So many are fleeing the path
    of climates, disaster.

More that's said:
       With fewer words.
More likely:
       Remembered,when heard.

"but I only pulled up my underwear?!;"

finish the sentence in a poem.

Keep it simple,
   keep it neat.
Make it easy,
     to repeat.
Maybe they,
    won't delete.

If I couldn't walk
would you be my cane?
If I couldn't think
would you be my brain?

If I couldn't talk
would you be my tongue?
If I couldn't breathe
would you be my lung?

If I couldn't see
would you be my eyes?
If I fall down
would you help me rise?

If I get lonely
would you be by my side?
If I lose my way
would you be my guide?

If I get sick
would you comfort me?
If I'm locked up
would you be my key?

If I lose someone
would you help me grieve?
If I lost hope
would you help me believe?

If I get riled
would you calm me down?
If I get sad
would you be my clown?

I need you more
than I’d dare say.
If I asked you
would you promise to stay?