"We're all just molds of clay and toothpicks with tubes of thick kool aide."
I look upon your blank façade
Mute mold of meat most missed
And think what vicious act of god
Converts conquerors to kists
Ineptitude was just a guise
You were never trapped in mind
You took a blessing in disguise
And returned the gift in kind
Words soared freely through your sight
Swift glimpses to your soul
Packed a poignant source of might-
A cadaver awaiting its role.
And though we two have never met
Your lessons blossom in my head
Grasping words when death has set
To let prose surge when one is bled
Your fortitude an inspiration
Your finished work a celebration
My awe a timid dedication
To a stranger interred in French elation
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