than you. He doesn’t care
for money or station. He can spend
hours smiling at the sun, picking a
flower/beading a string. He

doesn’t care a thing about labels
or how he looks. I often find him
head deep in a book. He’s
happy just to see me. We go for

a walk, with none of that
highbrow talk. He’s happy
for all he has. But many wouldn’t
say he has much. He has touched

my life like none ever can. And
he’s more a man than you. He fell
into a coma and came through losing
his memory. And was labeled

handicapped. In a snap, his life
turned from running rivers to shards of
splinters. He was beaten and tormented
for this. And he's more a man than you. He rises
with the sun and smiles with the moon.