An introspection of my brush to pen …

“In the dawn’s gentle light, a man stands tall,

A week of toil behind him, heeds the call.

His weary bones yearn for a sweet reprieve,

As a day off beckons, promising to relieve.

With a closet of choices, a decision to make,

A myriad of t-shirts, each one a keepsake.

Yet his hand lingers on a cotton white,

A retro tiger’s face, a colorful delight.

This tiger, a symbol of battles won,

Each stripe a victory, each challenge done.

Black sunglasses perched, a cool demeanor,

Reflecting resilience, a silent arena.

He’s walked the path with the golden rule,

Fueled by kindness, not just as a tool.

Through struggles faced and hardships met,

A tapestry woven, where success is set.

In the mirror’s reflection, determination gleams,

A life lived earnestly, fulfilling dreams.

Patriotic sensibilities woven in his core,

A love for country, a spirit to adore.

The tiger, a silent companion worn with pride,

Embodies the strength, never to hide.

A shirt, not just fabric but a tale to tell,

Of battles fought and challenges quelled.

As he steps into the day, free and light,

The tiger on his chest, a guiding light.

For the man who meets challenges head-on,

His heart beats to a rhythm, a victorious song.”

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