And then there exist a person
who made me a poet.
A soul whose presence made my words complete.
To know him is to behold a poem.
So pure in essence, yet unseen by anyone but concrete.
Let the person be a mystery, just admire the phrases.
Let his presence remain hidden, lost in life's mazes.
He remains an inspiration for the verses that flow,
A quiet spark that sets the creative mind aglow.
Within the realm of words, the inspiration stays,
A guiding theme reflected in many different ways.
Though the world may never know who inspires my rhyme,
He lives within my poetry, beyond the reach of time!
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