They took his jacket-

His ragged, old jacket-

They put it on.

They felt the feelings he did.

They saw the things he did.

They smelled the faint cigarette smoke.

They saw the dark stain of spilled coke.

They all wore his jacket- passed it round the circle.

Friends alike, friends within.

Just like him,

Just like him.

And later they would look back,

See the final product.

All the pieces intact,

The last scene of the last act.

And they would see

Him-

Right there-

Part of their play.

Part of their puzzle,

Their game,

Their days.

This man they never knew

Melted into their lives.

He didn’t know it

Cause he was gone,

But he became the very paper

That they were writing on.

Through his jacket,

His legacy left

Through them

After his death.