FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

he faces himself in the mirror.
he look at the papers.
How can a guy with a face that looks like a rock of Gibraltar
succumb to a common perdition of shattering
pieces of bricks submerged finally to the sea of
chaos?

he smiles at himself. Look at this mole, this is my amulet.
I am indestructible, he comforts himself.
Always a winner, he takes pride of his triumphs.

But that was long ago. The final curtain falls. The song you know
has killed those who in complacency relied on statistics.

Tomorrow is the wake of another dead man.
The people who came shake their heads.
Disbelief has become a norm nowadays.
Poor, rich guy, handsome and oozing with sex appeal
puts a bullet on his head
Plants it like a seed
Upon a brain where no flower grows.