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The gentle giant
Towered above his friends
Six foot four, mammoth
His size lost on the truth
Of his kindness
He was mild and tender
Like the elephant 
His spirit whispered
Instead of screaming
He was mellow
Like serenity, soothing

Michael, named for an angel
He was wise and strong
Laughing instead of crying
When the truth was
He could feel the tears
He was bleeding grief 
That left him weak and forlorn
Poignant thoughts plagued him
Never allowing him to know
The peace that flowed freely
Inside the rest of our souls

The gentle giant
Lost in a raging war
With the bottle
The one who owned his hope
And colored his thoughts
In black cold dread
Darkness that stormed
Inside of his head
Leaving him lonely and sad
Like the living dead

There would be years of fighting
His head and heart were at war
With his need for a taste of the dark
Collected in his thoughts, his heart
Where there would be self-destruct
Claiming his joy and happiness
Feeding the flames of ungratefulness
Darkening the way toward grace
Where he could have found his way

The gentle giant knew grief
Like a friend it flowed through his veins
Leaving him lost in his need
For a drink that calmed his misery
Left him feeling some better
Until the end when it left him
Without the ability to breath
Death came without even a promise
For relief from the putrid darkness
That colored his world in dread
That promised to live inside his head
Until the end when he left us
Wishing we’d known the cure for him
The one who fell under the spell
Of 80 proof respite from the soul
Who knew sorrows beyond reason
Regrets that would leave him
Behind bars created by the prison
Built on a superficial feeling

It was only when I saw him in his coffin
That I knew he’d finally found freedom
From the darkness that only the drinking
Had helped to dispel his manic-depression

Heartbroken, I fall to my knees
As I see that freedom sometimes means
Leaving behind those who believe
In your heart, your spirit, your soul
The you who they know is made up of love




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September 5, 2021
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