The Best Poet Not For Contest
He gave me tiny wings for me to fly,
his name was: Winged Warrior,
he placed his spirit within me,
but then he died.
Speechless my words became,
I no longer wanted to fly,
his humor and talent beyond,
compare.
I waited to see his Avatar appear,
but he flew away leaving me behind,
My heart was broken for a friend of mine,
his humor brought spirit,
within my soul.
How can one with only words,
speak so loud without any sound,
he touched my heart with his giant spirit,
But:
He, left his little wing behind
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