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

Of grace

Of sympathy

Of care

Of ambition,

Yet humility.

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.