by Jhat Khevian (Bianca Bury-Rodriguez)

Copyright 1998

One day I was walking down a road,
And I happened on a rather odd man.
He wore pot lids and skillets on his back,
And looked like a fool without a tan.

He looked cheerful still, stumbling once
Even I could tell he was a good soul.
I approached him a little carefully,
Then promptly stumbled in a pothole.

He helped me up with a silly grin
This young man with a gentle heart.
I couldn't tell why he'd want the life
Of a warrior with a bloody sword.

He said his name was Joxer the Mighty,
By his face, I saw he fit the part
He even seemed to welcome trouble
A whole lot more than a man can afford.

He told me of his life on the road,
How he helped his friends through thick and thin
I listened while he bragged a bit,
Wanting to see the man within.

He admitted that he bragged a bit,
Which I hadn't doubted from the start.
But walking with him, I could see
That he indeed had a warrior's heart.

It's strange where you find people
Who are so much more than they seem
I guess we kind of adopted each other
And by the firelight, I let myself dream.