There once was a man in a wheelchair.
He just needed a little push to get him over bumps 
and by the briary bush,
but never did he ask and seldom did he complain.
He rolled with his old arms, the wheelchair, even in the rain.
You could see him rolling down the streets
and coasting down the hills.
His countenance was always joyful,
his kindness a catching wave.
Never did we see feeble legs,
but only that he was brave.
We’d hear his kind, kind voice, 
and then we’d see him from afar.
He was such a gentleman, a joy to have around
and as rare as a shooting star.
Never was he negative and ever did he try 
to be a positive light and a really, really nice guy.
His character was phenomenal,
his charisma just as good.
He was a bright light we could depend on 
in our neighborhood.
He would always be so friendly;
his disability would never get him down.
He’d catch and kill you with kindness, 
and greet you around the town.
The only disability we all have is not the one we see.
God created us all equal, if we want to be.
You choose how you will spend your life 
and the way you look at things.
Choose to look at brighter days,
not the sufferings.