In one of life’s great cruelties, Kevin McCormack was taken from us;

I imagine he would not like it, if we kicked up too much of a fuss.

He might not wish to hear, I suppose, about tears shed on his behalf,

He might prefer we lift a glass, remembering him with a laugh;

But I cannot, not yet anyway, I find myself fumbling, for better words to say,

To mark his continuing presence, as in our hearts he will stay.

Shakespear said, “We shall not look upon his like again”;

He was there when things looked bad; pointing the way for us to win.

Everyone loved Kevin, we are diminished without him, CIRM without McCormack? That is like missing a limb.

He was an amazing worker, though he did it with a smile;

He always had time to do another favor: my debt to him is quite a pile.

He took joy in CIRM’s accomplishments; as the scientists took on their fight;

His last article was how to help the blind recover sight;

His writing style was exceptional, clear and to the point;

Even talking about arthritis, how it creeps into the joint.

His approach was always positive, how a condition might be cured;

He had no need to exaggerate, but he did not want suffering idly endured.

He loved the struggle, and so must we, if the battle is to be won,

Take example from our smiling warrior, take on chores which must be done.

Of those whose lives inspire, he stood tall, among the best;

“Good night, sweet prince– and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”

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