The Passing Of David Poem by Seth Proch

It wasn't so much him as it was the reaction he caused.
I'm sure I'd met him once before, though I'm not sure when.
Seeing so many grown ups crying at once.
They spoke of him with beautiful words.
I saw a dying generation grieving the loss of their own.
He was good, or so they tell me.
A man remembered for his laughter can't be all bad.
It's all relative I suppose.
The word cancer has a way of making nothing else matter.