Against the Battering wind he strains
Away from conformist crowds
To tear will make deep furrows
No frown distort his face
As his sneakers hit the floor
With violent thuds and splash
Water ripples his image
As the sorrow thuds thump on
He is the worlds free thinker
Da Vinci at his best
As he backs away from that doomed crowd
The world does seize to jest
As he runs away from raging mob
A tear streaks past his vest
As Mandela strives for freedom
There's a beating in his chest
