The leaves fly with the air, after long sleep from the day,
The feet plays the music for them to obey.
He walks through the path unchosen and unseen;
Where the grass is still fresh and radiant green.
People talk and laugh at his back,
But that is not what he would track.
He would know that he was different;
But none could make him feel bad without his consent.
He would talk, think and sometimes even whisper,
But his ideas would always be fresh and crisper.
He would speak less and not to many does he;
But every time he did he would achieve scot free.
A photographer, designer and also a very good friend he is,
Only his touch could make the water fizz.
But why do people not see him from inside;
A child so very delicate he hides aside...?
But I have observed and now I know,
He is the only one with no shadow.
Like the sun he shines up high;
The only one in the world you could always rely...
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