Giant man with giant hands
Tattoed from years gone by
A stoop in his walk
Trying to miss the sky

A beard long an wistful
As grey as the bleakest day
Thickened specs sit on his nose
So he may find his way

If you met him in a dark alley
I'd swear you'd run a mile
Until the streetlight shone on him
To reval his toothy smile

His voice gentle an soft
Belies his stature and look
The harley in the carpark
Another point mistook

For beneath this rough exterior
Beats a warm heart
Caring for the disabled
So in life they may start

To enjoy what we all
Casually take for granted
The joy that he sees
His vision isn't slanted

Here's to you old mate
I admire what you do
As i look on curiously
Into a soul true