11th April 1958 - 16 December 2001
Such pleasure you gave me with your prose
Now you have been flung just akin to the rose.
The hills seem so distant, the clouds have departed
Into the valleys of the broken hearted.
With your back against the wall all you saw was pain
Not even the Big Man could find strength to abstain.
The perils of booze was clear, the despair became threefold
Now all that’s left is memoirs of a chronicle left untold.
It must have been so lonesome, you must have felt so sad,
Trying to evaluate the good from the bad.
The choice was not yours, which I can recognize
So short your years devoid of compromise.
The angels are singing, home came their own
Upon the hills with your name cast in stone.
Thanks for all you gave me in that all you knew
But most of all Big Man thanks for being you
© BOB FIDDAMAN
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