He will give and give, all that he has. 

No broken heart will he ever pass. 

Daily striving for better things,

As he lifts others on his gentle wings. 

Often will he think that man

Is better off with his hand

But little will he realize that

He’s changing lives along his path. 

This soul who seeks for no reward

Is the one I owe each tuned chord

Of the song I play in my heart

He’s written in a lovely part. 

He’ll share and share with everyone

Who may stumble, fall, or who’s run-

Out of hope... but with his eyes

Will plead and face them towards the skies. 

Touching softly with his love,

Scars which hurt they are made of,

Turning them from black into gold

Placing warmth upon the cold. 

The world is his canvas

And patiently he paints

Beauty into every inch

That anxiously awaits

To be filled with color

Or even just to see

What may happen- after all, 

he’s painted upon me. 

And in painting, he creates a gift

That fills some relentless rift

That once did hurt, but now cannot

Because it’s filled to rise aloft. 

No matter where the wind may blow

May God watch over you, and know,

That when you think life’s at its end

You’ll always always have a friend. 

-One who saw