Unleached

The way he went,
was almost god-sent.
He fell apart down there at the mart.
Freedom he felt, like a song from a Celt.

At last he drew blood,
they now all understood
He was not to be had,
blind, wild and bad.

He saw only his fate.
Everyone else, he was to obliterate.
Ran around like he was mad,
screaming, pointing at every lad.

He jumped, ducked for cover,
in the air he seemed to hover.
A master at his art,
Too bad he just then dropped a fart.

The girls started to laugh.
Disappointed, his joy cut in half,
he stood up perplexed almost faint,
now sprayed with all different kinds of paint

The friends came around,
mocked him joyfully to the ground.
Among all the heckles,
was a young boy with freckles.

"Master teach me all,
of how you kept in the air without a fall".

"It was easy you see
I just let the wind carry me".