He used to stroll,
Around his town
With a big black bowler.
The garment that made him whole.

He walked around
With so much pride!
A swing in his step,
A spring in his stride.

But one windy afternoon,
That bowler blew away like a balloon!
The man cried for days,
Wishing him and his hat wouldn't have parted ways.

He walked around the park for weeks,
But there was never any sign.
He began to slowly give up
On what once made his heart shine.

Fourteen years later,
He sits in his rocking chair.
A young girl knocks on his door,
Wearing something familiar atop her hair.

He opened up his front door,
And his eyes immediately locked on to it.
His old black bowler,
That he had lost long before.

The girl took it off,
And handed it over.
She waved goodbye
Over her shoulder.

He looked down at that hat,
And never thought he'd get it back.
He placed in on his head,
And it's color never faded from black.

He walked outside,
With his hat and cane.
The swing in his step,
He no longer had to feign.

Author's Note: I realize this is really a quirky and weird poem, but I wanted to go out of my comfort zone and see if you guys would like it.