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.