Ericseye

I am driving to a destination in protest. My thoughts are at war. The man I admire is no more. At time past a home full of memories I adore. Now I enter where the decaying and dying are stored. This place I fear There he lay. Once a man I could not out due in industry and vitality. He was a master at his craft. Now he is fed by tube and rotated regularly. His body is twisted and nearly gone. His dignity has fled I supposed. As if he knew. He said don't worry about me. I leave having "fought the good fight". It is your life that still weighs in the balance. At that moment came the meaning before unseen. My hero came back to me