Who knows the heart of a stoic man
Who sits apart in apparent calm?
No warring memories seem to haunt him;
Nor psychic wounds needing soothing balm.
But as he goes from day to day, his face
A quiet, unemotional mask;
Deep inside his seemingly serene soul
Lies a favor that he asks:
He longs to become part of the common crowd,
One small, undemanding part,
Embraced by all who know him with a true
And gentle heart.
Or he may be violent and wild,
Rude, angry, boisterous and course,
Thrusting his disruptive way through life
With a fierce, elemental force.
And he’s always being castigated for some
Rash misdeed or wrong;
Yet his heart too, yearns for the peace
Of a loving and gentle song.
So, though one may seem quiet and composed,
While the other rages wild and brazen;
What both seek - what they truly need
is a place they can call “SafeHaven”.

©Thurman P. Woodfork
2001