
In this group there exists one of the world wonders
A child, a man, a friend who is comparable to no other
In my eyes he is a truly blessed individual
Who selflessness and luscious hair is no less than a miracle
He struts up and down mountain ranges like a goat
and is always there to hand out his unstoppable stoke
With his piercing blue eyes he makes the world fall in love
A master of cards who deals cleverly the queen of not clubs
But when I first met him there was little I knew
an innocent boy child with a burgeoning goatee too
I quickly learned that he was a pigeon scout
and at first I was not sure what the fuss was all about
But soon I realized the man had a talent
and gorging himself with the king of the curd
and although he could stand the dust of Patan
my respect grew infinitely and could not be curbed
At first he was quietly wise, almost a prophet
but when he experienced the awakening damage of the dome
he unleashed a beast so powerful no one could stop it
A god at mischief, or at least an equal
a pigeon no more but now an Eagle
A lyrical genius, witty poems he writes
i’d hope to do the same, but I’d be up all night
and yes he is a man of capacities
A master of the bow staff
A lover of himals
survival is his craft
A woofer to save them all
A better person I couldn’t imagine
honestly I’m proud to have shared his tent
and licked the lobes of such a companion
this is my own to my friend Brent