Am inspired by the man with a dimple,
Created a way of travel for happiness and made it ample,
First he caught my eyes as a celebrity look alike,
But after a conversation he gave my endeavors' Psyche,
Every time he popped up in my chat room,
I saw that my openness and even my vulnerability would loom,
Does he burn to be great?
Or is it that sense of self-worth was born his mate?
Its like he never suffered what other men invented,
For the way he serenaded his virtues,one would think his faults were never vented,
In my biography of souls , he is noted in my radiant pages,
For its not what he gives but what he shares that he prospers in ages,
His grand intentions, makes friends like i sink deep in gratitude,
In my memory of the heart, chunks this huge aptitude,
Ade, a good deed buffering in a wicked world,
And i happened to be a player, to whom this green ball you hurled,
Am not bending the truth to be kind but rather descending deceit to the dead,
The good ones might not have been born but within us they are made,
His painted smile stands in his profile photo,
But it always gives this stranger the friendship motto,
Though his wall coats different colors,
And guess what the shade utters?
Women standing on different parlors sipping amusing compliments,
Men expressing abundance of praise in simple statements,
Seems he never missed an opportunity to make others content,
No wonder i celebrate his simple acts of kindness so eminent,
We see failure seeming temporary and success permanent,
From somebody we have no claim, and he has a proper and scar less intent,
From him i have learnt through listening and internalizing his advice,
Because in women such men can tell the moral fiber of vice,
Everyone can find fault, few can do better,
Ade you are like a book, the gift in you can be read not only now but also later.
