Anthony Poem by chris schwartz

Tony.

The management
Of his business
Was in itself a task.
He travelled the world,
And found peace,
But it was never nurtured.
He was troubled,
Much like myself,
In the scope that something
Greater,
Should have been accomplished.
He saw things.
He reached beyond normal
In his mind,
Taking him to depths,
Much greater than the ocean floor,
But it could not appease
His brilliant mind.
No wonder he died
Much before his time.
His mind spun faster,
Than this world could ever
Absorb.
But he left the seeds,
And they will grow,
Along with his memory,
Treasured, like Rembrandt
Painted in perspective,
Like De'vinci,
Cut into chords like Beathoven.
Carved deeply into the art
Of discovering and defining
Our existence.