He is Jimmy Stewart with muscles
The nicest guy that you could meet
But a manly man that holds his ground
Around him nobody gets pushed around
He has the soul of a saint
A knife like wit and storyteller
Always in a suit walking Sinatra tall
As driven as a launched locomotive
He reserves hard words for evil kinds
An expert on the puzzle of the unhinged mind
Yet with soft grace he returns to his being
Aware but never dwelling in that darker place
We see ourselves in him or how we would like to be
Decency, even handedness and a contented mind
Void of prejudices that blind us weaker souls
We see that his very nature is to be strong and kind
Somewhere, perhaps within the tapestry of me
A better color is waiting to saturate my very being
Strengthening the will, bolstering all self awareness
My wish is for all good people to rise higher when they fall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem