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One night as I sat at a meeting,
With coffee near my hand.
Waiting to hear from my Hero,
The person I considered The Man.

He brought the meeting to order,
In his easy soft carefree way.
I sat there with great expectations,
Straining to hear every word he would say.

His voice became strangled and crackling,
As tears began to fill his eyes.
The absence of joy was quite visible,
As I saw my hero begin to cry.

He sat there barely able to speak,
As he talked about his daughter and sons.
The pain and stress now audible,
As he recalled all the things he had done.

As he spoke of the grief and the sorrow,
That he felt in his life right then.
I suddenly started to realize,
That my hero was just like any other man.

As he spoke of his higher power,
And taking things "one day at a time."
A smile crept slowly across his face,
And his eyes began to sparkle and shine.

I saw that night in my hero,
That he too had his aches and his pains.
He could laugh and cry like normal,
Yet never have to feel ashamed.

For all the years that I've known this man,
I never thought he had problems too.
Though I have always held him high on a pedestal,
I'd forgotten the miles he had walked in my shoes.

That night I had learned one more lesson,
That heros are not much differant than you
They, too, all have hearts and emotions,
For all heros are only human too.

(Written by Len E. to Bill H.)