...and it was so memorizing,
the way he looked at the world.
Like a child, his eyes would light up
at the mention of his passion.
He was strong, but gentle.
He was fearless, but delicate.
He was not perfect, but he was close.

Over time the sparkle of his eyes clouded over,
and his passion was lost.
He pushed everything and everyone close to him away,
but cried of loneliness.
He was fragile, but cruel.
He was a fighter, but forfeited nearly every match.
He was unique, but became obsessed with "the American Dream"
He was lost, but threw away his own map.
Yet through everything,
He was not perfect, but he was still close.