He Was Ever So Kind

Nightly ritual Determined his worth Against the borderline backdrop Of the vengeful saltwater eyelids That dominated his landscape- The spotted hyena cackling Chattering back Telling him how to navigate a field devoid Of mindfulness or remorse Telling him to hang out Or hang up Up against the ceiling fan Oscillation Spinning around Circles Cycles Cycles of evening And cold regret All throughout the sunsets of his life All within the framework Of his not quite there And not fitting in Until the point where the cycle Is over Until the pain is gone like so many Stars Gone before Anyone gets to see them shine