Early on painted red, unknown not said Lifes design, already diein good die young, bad die strung known to us, not to trespass plans burned, backs turned trusts lost,at what cost poets cursed, plotting first to the future, under the peach tree a man sits, drinks he sips looking at the sky, ready to die waiting for, like a chore thinking next, hes vexxed lost in thoughts, his mind trots woundering blue, brain scrambled stew walking up, slowly yup hooded figure, fast on the trigger slowly reaching, the mans preaching dead on, lying on the lawn hood let down, natures sound father of who, now he knew tide swallowed eyes, then followed sighs future unknown, only but shown in a manner, no banner as the story closes, he poses once future now past,lifes gone so fast
