Leonell Echa

The chief mostly goes by Leon
His brown eyes a jutting neon
They’re too deep to look
Grabs you like a hook
And to avoid them is treason

I prefer to call him my Lee
Cause he in turn calls me his Vee
This is just to rhyme
Or a wish in time
Bottom line, let this story be.

Give way for the black Jesus comes
He is so sweet like sugar plum
With his kingly fro
He allows to grow
Ring out the alarms, sound the drums

A friend, a lover, and a son
His pen reigns like a mighty gun
Good heart, skinny frame
Which I pray to tame
His name is written on the sun

Vera