Come Fly With Me

Cold, indecisive hands digging deep in pockets
Two dollar bills, spare change
A week’s worth of unlikely stories
He’s not the only one around that seems so serious

Monday morning he greeted the day with stability
A quiet man in his quiet home
Listening to Sinatra records over coffee
A smile on his face, chalk up another day in the routine

Wednesday, a half broken man sat at a desk
Head in hands, hiding, wishing
Elevator music swam through his psyche
Catalyst for his twisted logic and crazy theories

Friday, tragedy in an office downtown
Twelve people killed, seven more injured
They say he was singing when he opened fire
“Come fly with me…”

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