You don't know Jack

Jack has a gun.
He shot himself everyday.
woe, irony and loss in his barrel.
He has a quick hand.

He is still a boy,
has delusions of romantic grief.
He does have other thoughts,
in the grander scheme of things.

He can' be beaten on his day,
he is a showman,
he pulls out the gun,
and shoots the world down.
His smile has the razor's edge.

He jumps out the window,
lands square on his cigarette.
Tips his hat for those who love him,
and rides his horse to the sun in the distance.

Today is different,
he will always be a boy,
His grin meanwhile,
is here to stay.