From Pete to complete

What a terrestrial whirlwind of a world we live in

Battling for every opportunity, every second of our waking moment.

People never let go of history,

And concoct their home-based toxic chemistry.

Deformed hearts lead to hideous wars!

Inter-nation patricide, in the name of patriotism, is a pathologically psychedelic pill,

It's not recommended by any government-funded healthcare professional.

A platoon commander needs to be fit and remove any frailties.

Or their marksmanship cannot French-kiss the rogues taught by the adversary's drill sergeant to push daisies.

I partook in the thorniest-issues debating competition,

When the judge asked me if wars were worth it.

I knew it depended on the uncompromising ethical cause and those who make it.

I stand by it till the echoes of injustice across the cavernous cave get quashed,

And there is only one way to achieve that.

It is to reverse the bellowing of unjust rumours on an earsplitting megaphone.

And that brings tears for those who won and simultaneously failed.

One such incident was the letter to Mr. Adams, the Patch,

Unlocking hearts that till then remained latched.

Patch Adams received a 12-year-old Jesse's letter after her untimely demise.

The after-death letter,

Full of after-death love,

Filled with after-death liveliness,

Showcased her after-death gratitude,

Composing an after-death movement,

That made her deserve a household after-death martyrdom for love.

And yet, before her death, everybody discounted her except Pete.

She experienced the wounds of a broken love she sent to the whirlwind world.

She knew the pain of an apathetic gesture and deemed we left her to fend for herself.

She pledged not to transfer the ruptured bruise provoked by getting dislodged from a sidelining society

to Pete, who was there for her when no one else took up the role of a steadfast companion.

That makes her a distinguished, justifiably top-notch Topcat of our society!

When Pete mailed the simple letter,

He simply knew not the contents little Jesse had inscribed.

He broadcasted it to the East, West, North, and South.

And they responded in untold numbers.

Or so it may seem!

But numbers are not how a human name themselves.

Numbers differentiate a cow from a cowherd.

All I can say is that it moved me to tears,

Her selfless act,

It made me react.

Her last wish

Even a genie had no power to squish.

All hail the man Pete

For, with her last act, she helped make Pete complete.

She battled to illustrate her substantive gratitude, knowing,

Nothing could prevent "Death" from kidnapping her to high altitudes.