The Face the He Wore

I watched as he walked through the room,

Every move he made, with intention, with perfection.

The way he carried himself, he was perfect.

From captain of foot ball to lead in the play,

He always helped everyone who looked his way.

When ever I saw him, I filled with admiration,

This man is a leader, he could rule the nation.

Top of the class, and a great sense of humor.

Nothing could touch him not even the Rumors.

I spent years knowing him, and he never faltered,

Not once, never close.

Until the piano.

There was music that echoed from the corner back stage.

It was piano, soft and sweet, I could tell it was him by the perfection in the beet

But as I listened closer, the music spoke, it said all the things that words never could.

The loneliness, and desperation all masked with a grin,

I sank to the floor in the ocean of notes

And music painted the picture, coat after coat.

Then it happened, the falter, it was one note, a little off key,

I peaked around and what did I see…

Crying

He was crying

Tears drip onto the piano,

And he glanced my way, and beckoned me over.

We he started to talk, tell me the story.

The song was his mothers, she wrote it for him,

That was all the hope before it got grim.

She died a years ago, his father as well

A car accident took them, from what I could tell.

The song and  locket is all that he had,

to keep his memory form being all sad.

“I don’t understand” is all that I said,

 And smiled a little and raised his head.

“the mask that I wear day after day,

To give some one hope, and show a brighter way.

See what happens to us is out of our control, but what we do,

After it happens, now that is on us.”

He wiped a tear from his cheek and got up to leave.

As he neared the door a stopped with a turn,

He smiled and waved, as it all fit into place.

Now I understand, the face that he wore.