by: Sue (Hall) Bortell
I used to watch him with that
shy shamefaced nervousness
that always plagues high school girls.
He wore his leather well and he lived his uniform.
He was the cool dancer,
the great kisser, and the one with pain.
Years flash back as this adult now
puts pen to paper and reminisces upon
those olden days while looking deeper
into what drove him.
Movies speed through my mind --
an actor in black playing all the parts
so well, yet hurting inside as he wooed the ladies.
Now pondering his life, I remember that one
great love who controlled his every thought, decision,
action, and changed his life forever.
Nobody knew the pain he carried;
He covered it well by being macho.
But deep inside, love lived and died
and few ever knew the truth.
He, too, is now an adult and still
handsome, with the black hair, the stance,
the leather - all remaining as the persona.
Yet his eyes tell the real story.
He has lived, loved, worked and
strived for a good life.
But on a still, azure evening when the moon
glows full and stars light the sky in
brilliant glory, he reflects
and old tears sting his eyes.
For my buddy, beast,
with sincere caring
by: Sue (Hall) Bortell
