Bad (G)luck

'T was the day before Christmas
Nobody ever called him
Nobody would ever spring a gift for him
Totally depressed
Jake took his Glock, made sure he had plenty of ammo
And headed for the subway
A man, small
in nature and in mind
Also filled with anger and rage
Mad at the world.
Even madder as he walked along Fifth Avenue
Seeing all these happy looking people
Arms filled with gifts and yet looking for more
Rushing to find the last and very perfect one
While others sat in cafés and restaurants, enjoying all.
In the midst of the crowd he did not notice the fellow coming his way
A man deep in conversation with himself
Or with someone in his mind who totally disagreed with him
Gesticulating wildly as he approached him
And, for no reason whatsoever, pushing him, shoving him aside
So rashly and rapidly and even before Jake could react and reach for the Glock
He lost his balance, ended up in the street, was run over by a speeding car
And died on the spot.