A Hard Look

Many thought him a miscreant

With hair well past his shoulders

His demeanor always casual

His integrity much bolder

He possessed the musculature

Of a fighter close to winning

Yet he never seemed surprised

When pushed back to the beginning

He walked with such a calm

It betrayed his warring mind

Funny that so many feared

A man unsaturnine

The deep lines laid upon him

Surely spoke of his exhaustion

Still his peaceful glide did not turn back

Those who would accost him

We’ve lost his joyful wisdom

And unprecedented patience

An ever gleaming mirror

Of the dangers of complacence

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