Cracked

They said he'd cracked, like a jar in the wind, ajar to within. Grumbling gears in an attic of a mind, cranked with the resiliency of an old steam engine, chugging along. Muddy cigar for the failures, basement couch for the come-backs, after being knocked off a hundred times, the podium has never had this many scratches, climbs back up every time, but gallows are never very accommodating.