Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sitting on his drift wood throne
he ponders the world of his creation.
A gentle man of fifty seven, overweight, balding.
Selfless his family always first, he holds nothing back,
“Only the best.” he says as he works his fingers
to the bone at a job he hates.

His white shirt shows the purity of his emotions,
towards his family, friends.
Thinking of the good, bad, death, and life,
not a moment spared for himself.

As he sits knowing nothing of the future,
the turmoil of living a mortal life,
He shows no emotion, he sits,
Staring into the dark green Tybee waters.
His future is set, on a plan with no change.

Now time has passed,
the family broken, his spirit gone.
Used, he feels his time wasted,
not knowing when or where he will see
his family again.
Bit by bit he whittles away,
he has everything to give
only love does he need.
The man called father.