My Secret Hero

He holds and heals
He knows and conceals
my fears...
He shows, when everyone else is closed, that he hears
my tears...
Even when he isn't near.

You know the kind of man,
who doesn't even know his own plan,
yet helps you in a way that only he can?
and rather than
add on
he subtracts; the mess now gone,
stress now lone,
the excess that was ingrown now has a tombstone.

Though he may not know,
and think he's just a pillow--to cushion my fall,
he's secretly my hero.

On the low,
When i think about him, inside, i glow.

He bestows hope,
Never lets me mope,
A shoulder to cry on while I cope,
The tightest knot in my life's rope

He makes my whole being smile
Meanwhile, i unpile, all of the vile
from my life,
and throw it into exile.

Renewal is mine
as i finally peacefully recline,
all thanks to this certain fellow
i call my secret hero.