Victor Erroneous, Man In The Suit.
Studded cane, hat of silk, and the swagger to boot
with an animus twisted from mankind’s opinion,
he’s not who He is, who he is, is mistaken.
The man in the suit with visage incomplete
walks a path down the road; wave an arm, stop and greet
this peculiar fellow adorned in pure white,
clean and pressed, I confess he’s a marvelous sight!
But his stride is all crooked, his arms rather long
Smudges dance on his cheeks since his face has been drawn
and erased several times, but he still marches on
Left-Left, Right move his feet, indecisive and wrong.
The man in the suit never looks straight ahead,
but his head is held high, as if nothing to dread!
If a grimace could grace such a face in his chase
of the wind, men would tend to think ill of our friend.
But alas he pretends everyday as he spends
time to straighten his tie while he walks; does he lie
to the world when he dons different ego’s at will?
Right-Right, Left move his feet, yet he marches on still.
The man in the suit, a grammatical CHARM!
so benevolent, eloquent, never means harm
with the words (or the lies) that he paints
(so, he tries) how the people doth faint.
(when they see through his guise)
But his stutter reflects every step he takes.
F - F - Fearful to trust the decisions he makes.
Never punctual. Functional. Straight to the point,
walking stiff with cement locking every joint.
Yes the man in the suit, what a marvel is he!
Ever clean on the outside, pure white and pristine
ribboned top-hat of silk, studded cane, pearly teeth.
This man isn’t perfect and neither are we.
Edward L Holmes