boy in suit and jacket,
tailored like his hands,
ever so perfectly,
hands used to write,
his fimbled covered nails,
protecting himself from anything and everything,
he won’t let you touch him,
he will surrender to suffering,
but will protect his heart at all costs,
he is a soldier,
with chest pushed out,
with head fixated above neck,
with straight back, facing forward,
ATTENTION! for He has arived,
He creates magic between his eyes,
His mind wizzing with ideas,
and theories,
he will read twice, then thrice,
will not belive what you say,
will be the devils advocate in the room,
will do it for growth,
will test his own Will, for experimental purposes,
he will listen.
He is the boy in suit and tie,
who will listen and try to understand,
the sovereignties between knitted lips,
will use both ears to hear,
will test your limits,
will make you speak when not wanted,
he is the boy who was hurt along time ago,
noone listened to the boys call,
he instead wrapped himself up in tissue paper,
using the wrapping paper as gift,
so he gifts himself to the world,
uses his gift of ear, and gift of knowledge to free himself of ignorance,
what kind of man must he be,
to put someone elses worries in front of his desires?
He, is a young, passionate man,
with hope for the world,
will challenge all that you ever knew,
with mountains as a name,
oh how mighty must he be,
and what lessons must he learn?
The man of the hour turns a year older,
as he turns another page in this chapter of life,
the complexities and algorithims that churn through,
and how blessed I must be,
for I was freed,
through his words,
through his ear,
and how grateful and blessed the universe must be,
to have raised a fallen star amongst dirt,
a mountain now ruling..