The Real In The Soul. Poem by Charlene Lee

I love the men with the wild, long hair,
And the spark in their eyes like a silent prayer.
I love the way that a man isn't scared to cry,
To let the tears fall 'neath a heavy sky.

I love the softness, the heart on the sleeve,
The quiet emotions that help us believe.
A 'ride or die' partner, a steady, true hand,
Who builds up a life and who understands.

He'll get his hands dirty to provide and to feed,
Meeting the struggle and answering the need.
But when he is fragile, he'll let out his sighs,
With no need for masks and no need for lies.

For we are all human, whatever the name,
The blood in our pulses is one and the same.
I love the 'real' in the soul of a man,
Who shows me his heart in the way that he can.

No matter the gender, no matter the part,
The beauty is found in an open, true heart.