Poem 35: The Kindest Man Alive

The Kindest Man Alive 

 

The kindest man alive, his happiness would always thrive, 

Day by day, there'll always be a way, 

That somebody will smile, because he's there, 

Because his presence is clear, he'll go for a beer, 

Make a dog out of balloons at parties, 

Or occasionally give little kids a tube of smarties, 

He was always really good, 

What made him who he was, always became a mystery, 

What was the cause, where did he get all this happiness from? 

Did he have a great life, was he rich? 

Was he not bragging? No, he's not a b***h. 

How could he be like that all day, 

People would call him gay, due to the clothing he wears, 

There would be nothing he would say, 

But he'd just walk on, anger and sadness, he'll show none. 

Sometimes he'd sing a song, did he go to an asylum? 

There, did he belong? Who knows, 

Who's wrong or who's right. 

Well if someone's going to have a fight, 

He'll walk on by, and say goodbye, 

And be kind to everyone in sight.