Black leather all around
Not for real but in his blood
Heart and soul that smell antique
Someone once claimed he was bleak

He has the ability to correct them all
For even though he's not as tall
He has the wits to set them straight
Although he thinks he can't create

When he loves it's with a passion
And when he hates it's with obsession
Half the time he mixes the two
And surprisingly, out of the blue,

He demonstrates good things
Rings the bell for an angel's wings
And proves the matter isn't quantity
But is the quality of an entity

So unless you have something to add
Before my mood becomes too bad
I shall retire to my home now
Before the dawn forces me to bow


Dedicated to Noam