THE DEATH OF TRICK SHOT JIMMY

Trick Shot Jimmy, stands on the corner every night waiting for his luck to change, he’s such a sorry sight the mirror no longer, reflects what his heart must know the streetlight flickers, casting doubt upon his shadow  

While third shift companions, flick ashes going by and tightrope walkers without a net, let out their cry but Jimmy, he just doesn’t comprehend the situation he’s just looking, for a new sucker to bring his salvation  

The years pass him by, and even the darkness fades Trick Shot Jimmy, in his solo game of charades with the collar up on his coat, and his cue in it’s case all the pool halls now closed, Jimmy’s just outta place