Elegy for One Yet Living

			
He walks about, without a care.
And we, the burdened few,
must watch, try not to stare,
while he struggles to pass through
 
No more a man than his son a boy,
No more alike to he than ever was,
And yet the adage holds: like to like
Their life alike in only this:
 
He was begot on borrowed knee
Repossessed, the body begs
To be the image the mind sees
The vision taunts the crippled man,
Makes him think,
‘How fortunate to be once blessed.’