March 21, 2011
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You were a lion, roaring your message to the world,
While your mane shown in the sun,
Your delicate voice reached into the hearts of mankind,
And your words reached everyone.

Yet I fear for you, Inspiration I do,
For your roar grows faint,
Your mane has turned dim,
And your voice breaks now and then too.

Oh, your hands were as a craftsman of old,
Your work of fine artistry.
Your smile was like that of an angel above,
And your back held humanity.

Yet I fear for you, oh Inspiration I do,
For your hands now shake,
Your lips have since cracked,
And your back went out long ago.

Our dear Inspiration, what have we done,
To neglect such a being as you,
For our hallways are dim, and our voices grim,
Ever since we bid you adieu.

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