His hair arrayed in a muddy brown mess,
With all of the elegance and finesse,
Of a homeless man in a burlap dress.
His meticulous life well unkempt,
With a crooked smile of contempt,
Of which I never would've dreamt.
His voice laced with earnest delight,
With cheerful tone that gives a fright,
Of which I'd run from, I just might.
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