To my Pops

I was known as a "lost soul"

I had no clue what I was doing and was, well lost.

That was until my grandpa, my "Pops" guided me.

He introduced me to a world of writing.

The words instantly consumed my mind.

Because of him I was hooked.

And that's not all my Pops did for me.

Whenever I was down in the dumps, he was there for me.

He saved my soul.

No matter what time it is and I truly mean that,

He is always there for me.

He is humble, noble and honestly, one hell of guy.

I'm am extremely proud to wear his name,

Even though I probably don't deserve it.

So to my Pops,

Thank you.

This poem is about: 
My family

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