The Man Who Bought The World

"Precisely so!"
Said the man upon the stair
His hair so fair
His eyes told lies
That weren't true

His beard wasn't there
He sat on
The chipped chair
Upon the stair

Oh clouds
Above his head
The scratch, the scab
The dread

Forgive me God he pleaded
Like I held the power
Of the peace
He needed

A book of rhyme
He held
"Mother Goose I am!"
He yelled

On bed of pins
He lays at night
Composed of tears
This souless fright

He bought the world
And now he cries
As every flower, every person
Slowly dies

He destroyed it
He completes it
Burns it
And admits it

So low
On the last step
Head cracked
He's nothing left

He God was
And now he's gone
In one girl's words
His story was strong.

This poem is dedicated to David Bowie