FictionPoetry

The Vanilla Man

The Vanilla Man

The vanilla man wakes up early to watch the sun
He goes to bed when the day is done

The vanilla man dines on plain wheat spaghetti
Eats vanilla ice cream with no confetti

The vanilla man saw a hundred years
Shared in laughter, shed some tears

The vanilla man chooses his words with extra care
Brows furrowed, blinking slowly, as if in prayer

The vanilla man raised ten kids that are his glory
He tucks them in, checks for monsters, before reading them bedtime stories

The vanilla man walks along on rickety joints
His finger bends when he points

The vanilla man expects little and lives simply
For, compared to others, he is far more extraordinary

He has fought ten thousand fights
Seen ten times those sights

Dove far beneath the realm of man
Walked the entirety of the sun’s span

As for matters of the heart
Many a women’s had fallen apart

He carries with him one great treasure
A luscious mustache of unparalleled measure

Such a thing is not given
Only earned by those wisdom driven

And wisdom has he earned
From the fires life has burned

He has sailed the seven seas
Now he drifts once more with the breeze

That billows the sails of Neptune’s ship
Off on another cosmic trip

Here’s farewell to you, brave helmsman
You will forever be our vanilla man

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