Red

He was the good son,
and brother, as well

with a hunger for living
he couldn't quite quell;

living for family
'til he sent them, away...

my friend, Red....can't come out to play.

~

Tortured, in life
but, still wore a smile

that would put you in, awe
but, that was Red's style,

a teacher, a mentor,
a student of the day;

Red's hope began slipping, away.

~

All I can remember
is, he'd never condone, 

even his behaviour
for leaving his family, alone;

he would've straightened things out
had he just one more day,

and that's something, my friend "Red", would say.