In Grand Rapids where the cold winds blow,
Lived Dave Dejong, a mixed bag of woe,
A tangled soul with a fierce, dark glow,
In his wild mind, the tempest would grow.
Cockiness dripped from every line,
He walked with pride, but beneath, malign,
A mean-spirited edge cut through his pride,
With racism hidden deep inside.
Jealousy’s poison coursed through his veins,
In every glance, a trace of his pains,
He envied those who lived beyond,
While in his hometown, he was fond.
Multiple faces, a chameleon’s flair,
One moment kind, the next in despair,
He danced through moods with shifting grace,
A stormy sea, no steady place.
Yet in his heart, a love so true,
For his mother Judy, strong and new,
Her warmth was a beacon in the storm,
A refuge where his soul could warm.
His father, a coach with a steady hand,
Guided teams with a passion grand,
Though Dave admired the baseball flair,
He never dared to leave or dare.
Bound by the town’s familiar cage,
His life unfolded like a raging page,
In jealousy and chaos, he remained,
A complex soul, forever strained.
Through the streets of Grand Rapids, he’d roam,
A storm of personalities, a life of foam,
With Judy’s love as his one true guide,
And a father’s legacy he could not hide.
Dave Dejong, a name of contradictions stark,
A tale of a man, lost in his mark,
In the shadows of his town’s embrace,
He lived his life, a wild, restless chase.
