He appears weak on the outside.

Slow on the legside.

And smiles on the faceside.

His mind is still capable

Of what?

I dont't know.

Finally my ears hear what he thinks.

In those brains he holds in his headside.

My small world becomes a landslide.

The neighbor.

So let us pack our bags

And leave this mess

To his own brains in the headside

Alone with his true self

Alone at his bedside