You Da Man Poem by Cee Bea

Bobby came in just before christmas,
I had not seen him in a while.
He is rare man of conscious.

he used to smoke a pipe
and fixed everything and anything.
he had a grin, from ear to ear
and an honest endearing nature
of good... real good.

I had not seen him since
his problem with his heart
the signs of stroke now physically evident
but not diminishing the spark of his eyes.

He saw me and hugged me
touching my face
with his trembled hand.

I showed him around, and
rambled on about this being
a tinkerers playground...
He understood, smiled
and hugged me again

His wife eyes never leaving
her sight. She reminded him
of things left to do, he smiled again,
shook my hand, touched my face
and winked.

I can sense his struggle,
feel his anger seething at his limitations,
as he turned and left.

I felt happy
and helpless
but grateful.

You da Man Bobby, You da man