The day he walked the streets,
with hundreds and thousands by his side,
the people grew quiet and took their seats.

Not a word spoken, hearing only heart beats,
they marched on, remembering those who died
on the day he walked the streets.

He did not speak highly of his many feats,
for he was not one to become overwhelmed by pride.
The people grew quiet and took their seats.

On they marched, enduring scalding heats,
with him at the front, their guide,
on the day he walked the streets.

No matter how high they stacked their defeats,
they refused to cower back and hide.
The people grew quiet and took their seats.

I do not take it lightly when I speak of him, one of the elites,
for his actions left his legacy alive, worldwide.
On the day he walked the streets,
the people grew quiet and took their seats.