He is mysterious.
When he walks, darkness falls.
There is sorrow and regret
Behind his brooding eyes.
When he speaks,
He never stumbles.
His face may be rough and worn,
But his heart is strong and gentle.
When his gaze meets mine
I feel he reads my every thought.
There is much he keeps from the world,
And much he wants to share.
But, if he did,
He would not be a mystery anymore.
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