My Friend Mick

I called him a Southern Jessie, He called me a Northern Git. We met at work years ago, Our friendship an instant hit. He went to the Lord on Friday, Leaving Marion and the Boys. He also left a friend behind, Guess he didn't have a choice. He leaves me with a Mick shaped hole, That no one will ever fill He encouraged me with his criticism, And respected mine of his. I looked forward to reading his work, His mind took twists and turns. He never had a bad word to say, I'll miss him from this day. Mick, you were a good friend, You will always be a good memory. Rest in Peace. © Dave Timperley June 2012