What is this young man?

Who is he

At times I wonder about him

In a small space and time wrapped with strings made of mystery in my soul.

Could it be he would want more from me

Or just somebody,

I’d give whatever to him.

Sometimes I find myself reaching for

Whatever he is reaching for.

Just to meet him at one of his goals in life

Would be an honor for me.

What is this young man?

Could he just be an object?

Something tangible,

Something of value that I could pass down to my children once my life is


Oftentimes I try to touch a place in his time

Maybe I could leave behind my fingerprints,

Just so that he would remember that I was there

If he was ever to look back and review his life

With his wife,

With his kids,

Or with whomever he finds special.

Maybe he would reproduce and populate the earth with little boys just like


I think I dream too much sometimes.

This is a grown man.

How could he be this special to me

Sometimes I just don’t see that.

I knew he was special the moment he went away,

I’m glad I know him.

To know him is to love him,

Just because you cant help but to.

I don’t think he knows his strength,

His impact

And the power he leaves upon contact.

This is just no ordinary man,

I think he is magic.

But then again

I think he knows that already,

He doesn’t need me to tell him.

So ill just fade into his background,

Watching him be the magnificent person he is.