You are my Hero; but
not in the traditional way.
You’ve got the ever present
Mask of stoicism;
that barely hides
your dancing eyes.
I see the hardships
of daily routine,
As it grinds away
your Mask.
You go home only
because of responsibility;
to take care of the family,
and clean the house.
I would join for a while &
try to lift your burdens;
you’d impart only a taste &
then pull it back inside.
After pain &
anguish & a lot of trust.
You opened up & shared
yourself & I found a softer touch.
You let your mask down &
I opened up my heart.
I was only an outlet
for some emotion;
You are my confidant &
best friend.
I saw & know how
you handle pain,
Holding it inside
’till you bust to let it go.
I can see it in your eyes &
hear it in your voice;
but, the pain you hold
is used to make you strong.
I’m learning now &
growing more.
to learn & emulate
your good points;
And to grow from
my pain
is my goal – but is it in vain?
We are now close to heart
but far away.
This brings great sadness & dismay.
I look up to & honor you;
I can’t let a day
pass away without a thought of you.
To deny my existence
would be to destroy me;
so, go your way & think not of
me, but
forget not a letter &
Alive I will be.
wil becker
1995.01.18
