The Michael is a legend to me. He exist in my memories, in Red’s smile and in the halls of glory of the enternal.
The Michael as I think of him was a simple man. An honest man. A Christian man. A real man. Like the men of Tango & Cash. Like the archetypes of old in western stories. He was a man always in my memory.
Real talk. I saw Cancer destory my ancester’s body and the scent of it on him lingers in my mind but….
I never saw him bend to it. I never saw him brake to it. Though it killed his body I never saw it kill his spirit.
You see. There’s nothing I’ve been through as of yet that can compare to the struggle, to the battle he raged against Cancer. So you can understand my less then a give a damn about Covid 19 or any struggle that will come my way.
I am a son of Michael. I don’t bow out to no battle. I am a son of Michael. I can’t give up. I am a son of Michael. I fight on. I am a son of Michael. If and when the United States government finally goes to complete shit you won’t find me in the grave with a doctor saying I died because of fear. You’ll find me on a horse with a rifle hunting for deer to feed my people. I am a son of Michael. I’m my Daddy’s boy. Even if I bend to life’s battle to kill me I will bounce back like rubber and hit twice as hard.
I am a son of Michael.
P.S. I encourage you to have the same gusto my dude as my ancester The Michael.