- There was a man of youth and such who wore the dress of teens,
- Of T-shirts, runners, baseball caps, and endless pairs of jeans.
- His skin was smooth; his hands were fresh, just dirty from some play.
- Energetic, so he was, and full of zest each day.
- His hair was wild, and quite untamed; his face was still a babe’s;
- His eyes – they sparkled with sprite and vim, and a smile upon his face.
- His chin was bare, yet held out firm, his shoulders held up high
- His feet with strength and longevity, his arms reached for the sky.
- One Hallowe’en, he travelled far, separated from his home.
- Few days went by, his parents gone, and now he was alone.
- There he stood, his hair slicked back, and a tie around his neck.
- His runners now were polished shoes, and his suit without a speck.
- His shirt and pants were pressed and creased, not a wrinkle anywhere.
- His socks were bought just yesterday. His books were free from tear.
- He was the same – his clothing changed. New adventures laid ahead.
- His energy seemed that much more. His nervousness was dead.
- The day before Remembrance Day, a couple years gone by,
- Found this man returning home, in an aeroplane did he fly.
- His hands now rough and dark with tan, his knuckles scarred and raw,
- His hair was bleached from the blaring sun; And bristles were on his jaw.
- His face was sharp and weathered well, his eyes were closed in sleep
- His shoulders drooped with weariness, his mouth did not peep.
- His shoes were dull and scuffed with age, the soles were worn right through.
- His pants were thin in the knees, and held a stitch or two.
- His books laid down next to his side were worn and taped and marked
- His vim was gone, but was replaced with strength found in his heart.
- The tokens of this man were strange to outsiders looking in,
- It seemed to them he was unkempt and far from being thin.
- But there were some who, wise enough, ’pon looking on this man
- Would often see similarities of One from a different land.
- Hands all scarred and worn with work, tired and sapped of strength
- Reminded them of wounded palms and arms stretched at length.
- Hands that blessed; hands that worked; and hands that knocked on doors;
- Hands that shook; hands that clasped along with prayers he bore.
- Tired feet and worn out shoes bore resemblance just the same
- To sandalled feet on beaten paths of whom he bore His name.
- Feet that walked; feet that stood in courage as he spake;
- Feet that gave to knees that bowed as his voice did quake.
- Tears that fell from his eyes and trickled down his cheek,
- Reminded them of drops of blood shed by Him not weak.
- Foolish men see what they’re not and hope they don’t become.
- Wise men see what they’re not, but hope they do become.
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