As Good As Bread

As many others the lad had lived
through pain and joy
illness and health
Had been touched by war
seen bright mornings
and dark nights
A friend had he been to the unfortunate
to rich and poor
small or great

And yet never had he met that rare person
the proof of real love
as good as bread as in Sicily they say
Never seen the blooming lily
smiling at the sun
nor heard the voice of harmony
with whom to feel as water of the same stream
nor feel a soothing breeze
or refreshing scent
for a stormy heart
nor encounter one ever
because that person was he