Pedro sighed, felt dismayed as the stones began to fall

and he found himself playing with sand, each house

built up filled with cracks, and it did not take the wolf to blow

the house away, even if it were not made of straw, the

cracks were what made the buildings unstable,

not livable and the jester tried to make another jest

for life was easier that way and the words

did not come, the feelings became contorted,

his face a grimace he showed only to himself

for the cornerstone was out of sync

with what he did, his choices, they did not quite

align with each other and it

was 3 steps forward and 1 step backwards,

sometimes 4 and it was beginning to dawn on him

that he was only being left behind. There was

nothing to jest about.