The Sun Down Man

There is this specific Gentleman in my home town by the name of question. . . Mark
His world seems to be upside down, but from his point of view, it’s still the same, even if his white veil is dark.
For breakfast, his first appointment is with his first glass of the day with no shame;
Just to keep the viper’s echoing ringing sound in the ears at bay or otherwise tame.
So this specific gentleman in my home town refuses to put his ear to the ground;
He doesn’t want to listen when God speaks, for he prefers to get advice from the brown bottle that gets his knees weak and down.
And really tries to open up with all gibberish that makes noise sound;
The really thinks that concealing his feelings is being profound;
Being tough enough is his form of therapy that keeps his manhood full of stout.
The know it all big guy, who fails to understand what he has lost and what he has found;
Doesn’t want to show off his weakness, because his feelings are on the rebound.
This very good gentleman convinces himself that, his responsibility is to entertain his anger;
Drinking like a fish and finding life to be as empty as the bottom of bottle is his manner.
Just to pass time, he flirts with little women who gave him a fashion show with miniskirts;
Then curses the little children, who pass by with a friendly greeting, now that has to hurt.
So this perfect gentleman in my home town entertains the ignorant crowd that gives him a glance with half of his shirt tugged out.
With a public appearance that appears to be peeping out like the neighbor from next door;
Who pushes her curtains aside slowly, to check, what is this man waiting for?
He sits on his place, right down unto a case, ready to prove himself wrong within his own confused debate;
Slips inn and out of day dreams, with realistic thoughts of what could have or should have been in life.
Reminiscing and complaining about the times that he had with his children and ex wife.
That very same gentleman in my home town, only goes back home when the sun already gone down;
In the streets, he sips his last beer in fear, with nobody in sight to be found.
Gets up with a staggered swagger tip toeing tipsy while he is home ward bound;
Owning the streets with zigzag walks from side to side, falling up and down going round and round.
Manages to get home safe; with his keys in place, getting ready to unlock the gates;
With his bed in mind and not wondering about his alcoholic state.
Then he forgets about his actions through-out the whole day and his under the influence tendencies;
Just to get back to detox by means of a good night’s rest, only to wake up the following morning to do yesterday’s routine…