Mitch
Mitch
My friend is my brother
from another mother
who is like no other.
In Christ, he’s my brother.
It’s my privilege to utter
and I do not stutter,
nor would I mutter,
In Christ, he’s my brother.
He’s certainly no nutter,
as smooth as butter,
like a ship’s rudder,
In Christ, he’s my brother.
In line, he’s no cutter.
His house has no clutter.
He’s firm without judder.
In Christ, he’s my brother.
He’s surely not a hutter.
His roof has no gutter.
His garage has no putter.
In Christ, he’s my brother.
So now it’s time,
to end my rhyme
for he is sublime.
In Christ, he’s my brother.
He’s not poor nor rich.
In him I find no glitch.
His name is Mitch.
He’s my brother.
John Stasukevich
6/24/2023
Copyright © John Stasukevich | Year Posted 2023
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