Baby`s hair
a woman\'s eyes
the heart of a man
not afraid to cry
The soul of a lion
wandering in the night
looking for a wrong
that i may right
Sealed by angels
santified by god
my pen, is my rod
I write for one
i write for all
the gift of poetry
was my call
So if i touch you
in any way
my work is done
till another day...