in a busting street,
a jester strides with painted grin and laughter wide,
his shoes a tap, his heart a song,the city hums,where
he belonges,
His quips like fierflies dance in the air.
he banters with strangers,without a care,
but fate,it seems has a punchline to deliver,
As he swings a joke, the bus comes whirring
"KNOCK KNOCK"he yells"WHOS THERE,MY FRIEND"
but in his laugter, he fails to attend,
to the rumble and roar of the eingiens might,
as it farrels forth,
a storm in the night , with a comedic twirl,
he jumps in glee, a skip and a hop-on,so carefree!
but lifes stage is fickle,
and humor can bite,
for the bus looms large,
a shadow in flight,
a blink, a hush,then laughter turns blue as the crowd gasps,"OH NO,ITS TO TRUE!"
The funny man sprawls,his punchline all lost,
in the chaotic dance of fates crule cost
yet in that moment of shock and despair,a chuckel ervps,
ringing through the air for laughter,it seems,
cannot be slain,even as earth meets sky,the comedy remains.
so remember him,with his heart full of cheer, are reminder to laugh, to
embace the apsurd here lifes little punchline can come
as a rush, so lets laugh through the tears, in the beautiful crush
