He is a dying man.

He is undeniably a man who must
Sit upon this world, frowning among his
Jesters. He cannot accept nor understand
His belongings like he is meant to. He is unable
Among many things. He is crude and untamable.
A wild beast nearly extinct. He cannot reach
The ground from where he stands, and it is an
Empty place. There is a whistling in the air so
High pitched, it is as if he had broken the law
Each day. He is a criminal. Like a man who
Betrays his family he cannot feel sorrow. He
Is a fly on the wall in a room belonging to a dying
Man. He is a dying man batting flies from his wound.