Like a lone feather floating carelessly
When he is cold sober which is rare
He just drifts through life aimlessly
From crisis to crisis he does move
Some self made others, perhaps not
But nothing changes his demeanor
He cares not for anyone or anything
He believes that life is just transitory
Moving from one misery to another.
Blue skies are temporary & illusory
They hide dark clouds & damaging rain
It is just a matter of time for disaster
To raise its ugly face without grace and
As no one has been able to influence him
He will probably drift to the next world
Without knowing when where or how....
