All he ever wanted

In Tipperary's quiet lanes so green,

Lived a man with a noble dream unseen.

He longed to serve, to stand and fight,

For justice, for the people's right.

 

His heart was pure, intentions true,

Yet shadows in his mind he knew.

The council's halls, the weight they'd bear,

He feared his spirit would not fare.

 

Mental health, a silent foe,

In his path, it cast a woe.

He felt its grip, a heavy chain,

Binding him in endless pain.

 

"Am I too weak?" he'd often cry,

As dreams of service passed him by.

The weight of doubt, it pressed him down,

In Tipperary's little town.

 

Yet in his heart, a ember glowed,

A strength that few had ever known.

For facing fears, day after day,

Takes courage in a quiet way.

 

Though he may not take the stand,

His spirit roams the Tipperary land.

A testament to battles fought,

In minds where wars are often wrought.

 

So, here’s to him, in shadows deep,

Whose quiet strength we often keep.

For heroes come in many forms,

And he, in silence, braved the storms.