The minstrel
I miss him dearly
That nicotine stained breath
And the sound of his guitar
The bachelor, the socialite
Their lips creased into a smile
Ever hopeful and ever loyal
To the virtue of our friendship
The wordsmith
He taught me his craft
Molded me, shaped me
Like clay chiseled unto marble
Then came the rebel
Champion of the downtrodden
Living, breathing for justice alone
For which he has sold his soul away
But there you are, all of you
Seated by my bedside as I die
It seemed to me only yesterday
The laughter, the juvenile quips
Until one day it all ceased to be

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