I see this man.
I stand up to get a better look.
He's sharply dressed and everything is in tact
His hair is combed, his clothes are pressed, and his smile is radiant.
I look at him right in the eyes,
His glowing green eyes.
And I see this look of welcome
I cannot help but smile.
He has this look of youth and uncertainty
But there is this glimor of hope.
He is looking right at me
And I can see his whole story,
His times of struggle and dissapointment,
Times those eyes filled with tears,
And all the times he got back up and fought another day.
I nod my head to show my respect,
his image is so clear.
It's a good thing I cleaned the mirror.