The last class of my professor’s life,
Took place once a week,
While others seemed at unended strife,
His home was a place unique.
Surrounded by love and care,
ALS is a lit candle,
Kissing him goodbye in despair,
All is gone and its hard to handle.
Every Tuesday was his ideal day,
To convey his lessons to me so meek,
I’d watch him roar in every way,
And listen to his kindness speak.
He was never ashamed of death at all,
He only wanted to share his greatness,
Morrie spoke of his life in enthral,
And Tuesdays enabled in me a straightness.
He taught me that it’s never too late,
For we need to see it differently,
To love and perish, accept our fate,
And believe in life gently.
He wanted his story to be told to the world,
For he wanted everyone to share,
The lessons of life twined n curled,
Morrie had only love to declare.
He was a professor, the best anyone had,
And time seemed running out now,
Nothing made me feel anymore bad,
For the times I’ve lost with thou.
Morrie died one Saturday morning,
And left the world a message anew,
Nothing comes with a warning,
Just follow your heart and bid the bad adieu.
– Adelene Coelho