dedication of a friend, a spirit that does not now it's worth yet, but my thought is of his truth, and guiden hands that pillow my mind,

a mixer of him is but a mascot of himself, it's boldness is his make up, his structure of self,

his walking is by foot steps of his
slithering the alleys smile

dark is a pavement of times that
determine shapes, and the size and thickness of each bell,


it's a ringing chords that are not often heard


like being bold and not ashamed of qualities he has become,

it's always his the greatest gift,


when, a door opens, he too brazenly walk's through it, although sometimes he has to approach, with only the amount of heart currently manifesting sounds,

outside's embrace decorate the mood of his mind, magnetic force of energy that substance the contribute of this man,


a minute of conversation an you bow your head, his words are of gracious content,


does he now his worth, no, he is humble, a guided thought,


he is the monarch of his time, past, present and future, chimes that dangle with music rhythmic melodies, like the wrapping a of a ribbon as it floats from a breeze,


to this man i say thank you for the thought's an word's, bound by friendship, that is of the here and now, let your words be your council,