The legacy he left
By example he led
His character had you imbibed right
Can walk life with might

Ever careful not to sin
Never cared for a bottle of gin
Wayne Cooper Bogart and Flynn
Made his nights from within
Stoic but not taciturn
Helping everyone at every turn
Expecting none in return
Generous to a fault
Attainment never by default
Treated equally the men
Was shy with women
Acquiring wealth he did with acumen
Shared his wisdom without reluctance
Lived life the Hindu way
Believed in what the Saints say
Consistency was a feather in his cap
For others mistakes hed take the rap

Wipe out his wealth
**** him with a hatchet
Deface his reputation
Blanket of sorrow be will bear
On the gods I can swear
Will never buy his future by selling out even an adversary
Nothing mattered more than equity
Weasel Squealer Snitcher he was not
The legacy he left
Will be perennially felt
Saints called him a Saint
Conduct and Etiquette we of the highest order
Seldom lost his temper
Lost his job for a misplaced piece of paper
Threatened with dismissal
He never wavered in his principle
Had he given the name
His life would not have the same
Why did the gods play this game
He never once had them to blame
Found himself all alone
Families he  had helped
With their growth and well being in mind
None of them he could find
Vanish they did
For nothing more he could accomplish
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