The fool lingers with happiness stuck in his teeth
Jeering and laughing all the way
Not a care in the world masking his own fear
Enjoying company as a flirtatious butterfly accepting attention as he floats but never feeling content
Struggling with appearances does it stay alive
Once they drift like dandelions is he lost in a field of never ending
Never beg to be the fool only to see his grace upon others who would swindle him to be placed in a bygone era lost in books covered in dust
He lives in a moment of time that no one can see
Only when old stories spoken from tongues of misfortune will his name ever be twisted to light and then he will become legend.