"As a child I thought if I could touch the sky I could touch the face of God. As a man I learned that all I had to do was touch my own heart"
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The Old Man

Today I listened to an old man at the coffee shop. 
Most would call him psychotic. 
I call him beautiful. 
He rambled on, raising his voice, jabbing his finger in the air; shouting over the tables to me about honor and “real men” who kept their rifles clean. 
One old man, with kind eyes, trying to make himself heard.
Everyone deserves a witness.