His presence on a leather seat, my work was always there
Warm and softly breathing, i could touch upon his hair
First his head and then his back, turning to and fro
The daily grind made better by, a buddy soon to go
Early morn to dusk each day, an endless toil for dreams
Pursuing worlds of legacy, whatever all that means
To him it never mattered, as long as I was there
Up and down and up again, to make us both a pair
And then his up was weakened, legs the shape of old
But help was only feet away, a lift I loved to hold
Only eyes and ears would move, not his hands and feet
Today I cried and said goodbye and touched his empty seat.