orange

a little man woke up at dawn and put his orange jumpsuit on there was nothing more to say it was his execution day he sat behind the door of steel and waited for his final meal he hoped to find it to his taste and the cook’s hard work not go to waste there was a book beside his bed a book that he had never read the book’s title, if you please was “the man with excellent qualities” he had received it from a friend when he thought his life would never end and every brand new day would bring loves to laugh at, songs to sing every day the road would roll toward a sunset with no goal a smile would beam on every face and nothing he did would leave a trace he would be free as a bird that was an expression he had heard how free was a bird, anyway? it might be hard to say some day he would rule the planet and be so great he could hardly stand it win some nobel prizes in his spare time and throw every bum a brand new dime but somehow that day never dawned he never put his best suit on he never married the farmer’s or the boss’s daughter he never walked on water to work at mcdonalds he was too proud he fell in with a bad crowd but the glory days of bad crowds had passed and they were brought real low real fast after the shootout on highway fifty-five when only he was left alive the little man stood before judge smith and said, let’s get this over with and now the day had dawned that most people greeted with a yawn but he tried to put on a smile and go out in style but nobody paid any attention or thought his demeanor was worth a mention down the corridor he was led a bag was put over his head here the tape ends that is all, my friends some day your connection will fail so take heed of this sad tale