The Third Musketeer

William Joseph, your name from birth,

B.J. For short cause you're so down to earth.

It's 1984 and now our trio's complete,

Little did we know, the third Musketeer we would meet.

Brothers by blood, friends from the start,

Two Musketeers left, both with a hole in their heart.

The smell of frsh cut grass in our minds will trigger,

How we forced you to line trim, because we were bigger.

Sunday dinner, Dad will still grill your steak, medium rare,

We'll place it on the table, by your empty chair.

25 candles, we'll blow out, every February seven,

You will not be forgotten, just because you're in Heaven.

Sitting in front of the T.V. watching memories of days gone by,

Laughing at you so much, it's hard to cry.

These memories that you've left us, we'll share with your "baby Gurl",

Your memory will live on through her, our dear brother, "Burl".

So here's to you, on your last day here,

Our brother, our friend, The Third Musketeer.

We love you, B.J.