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In memory of Luke T.C.
Wake up to hear his very voice,
kind and sweet but with choice,
playful and honest with much to say,
bright and beautiful like the suns ray.
Cold as ice when startled or mad,
all alone and cries when sad,
plays for revenge quite easy and well,
is it now time to pull his great spell?
Almost won the battle but lost inside,
too tired and defeated to try and confide,
feeling slight guilty from his teared face,
asking now to forgive and start over a new embrace.
Playing and laughing together again,
totally forgotten the days past and strain,
commanding and plotting our favorite game,
I'm the young Sarg. and hes the old fame.
Never expecting his time to come,
woke up one morning with shock and pain,
shedding tears day after day only from,
losing a brother so dear to my heart,
asking and wondering what had it gain?
