When I read the words he stamps
On empty paper
The words created through
Snapshots of the twisted
Childhood he suffered as an innocent boy
The pain remains, yet
He is a sturdy survivor,
A poet willing to share his thoughts,
His survival, the humorous
Limericks he crafts like a
Woven tapestry that deserves
A place on the walls of your heart.
I anxiously anticipate
His newest word streams
As a child awaiting the arrival
Of Christmas morning
But instead of brightly wrapped gifts,
I received the greatest gift:
His words, clever, meaningful
And covered with bits of his soul.