Kenny Cheevers died today,

I saw it on the TV screen.

His mushed brain played peek-a-boo,

A crimson corona framing his skull.

Children's voices laughed and played,

Those echoes lead to the punctual period

Made into sound, bullet-flight impact!

Kill the benign and smoke his cancer,

Swallow his essence as his ashes scatter

Along the wind's chaotic channels,

The end of a man who never was.