One Less Good Man: In Memory of tWitch

A lonely cry above a silent bush, a yelp above the trees. A weeping heart, a mental push, a slow buckle at the knees. A strength to pick up a million men, a weakness undefined. A beauty in a family made of his own, a loss seen by the blind. A conversation may have changed it all, to catch the angel before his fall. A slow and mental silence dwells. As we watch this angel as he fell. Now he's gone no reason or whelm. Was there anything here that could've saved him? Was there a reason for him to show a smile that was filled with tears of misery. I offer my condolences and a mental hug for his wife, children, and family.