A Good Man

By Jackamo   

The idea that he was a good man
May have been often thought,
But rarely spoken.
His deeds would go unnoticed,
But then, they were never done for recognition.
He had that quality,
Tho it’s hard to know why.
The mood would change
When he entered a room.
Sometimes warmer and brighter,
Sometimes colder and darker
And yet other times quiet and pensive.
But always a calm security
Would remain in his wake.
He had that affect,
Tho it’s hard to know why.
The moon belonged to him alone.
Sometimes it would lead the way
To places unknown or unexpected.
Other times it would follow close behind
But it was always there, just within his grasp.
He could reach out and pluck it from the sky
But instead he chose to share it with the world.
He had that confidence,
Tho it’s hard to know why.
The earth and sky
The wind and rain
Didn't seem to concern him.
His body, mind and soul
Were the centers of his universe.
All things and event seem to come from within
And people, like stars,
Would surround him,
He had that draw
Tho it’s hard to know why.
When he spoke, people listened
Because they knew it was true
When he did, people learned
Because they knew it was right
What he built, people admired
Because they knew it would stand the test of time
And what he was, people cherished
Because they knew his heart was pure
He had that gift
Tho it’s hard know why.
Yes, to say he was a good man
Is to say the ocean is deep
Or sky, blue
And it’s hard to know why.

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I actually wrote this about me but will let you all fill in a name and face to whom ever it reminds you of.