Cascade

He is a manic sir,
You don’t thank him nightly
He will come at you brightly’,
Like a star;
Capacious,
Don’t want a fuss,
Capricious
In his tendency.
No one knew 
The truth that lay within.
He loved
He laughed,
But not so daft
That he could not find
A way to begin
Again.
Not send spend time
On him.
He beats
To his own rhyme.
He saw the guns
And faced them,
Then laced with crime
Defaced them.

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