|ink on paper|
Tall as his pride he stood, with a face that angels could be jealous of.
His hands were sculpture's heads large and strong.
He knew how to touch me like no ones else has.
Passion, pride, creativity , joy and youth
Was not our fault, was not our fault
Your life will never be the same, my journey will never be the same
Will soon cross paths again , I hope that when that happen we can push our pride aside.