It's that time of year again.

Growing up I hardly ever saw him.
Every night down in the bar.
His customers loved him; they called him inspirational.
The following morning their inspired hangovers remembered him.
He gave them fond memories.
He gave their lives a purpose; meaning, if only 'til Time Gentlemen Please.
His must have been a sad life.
Random. No! Concealed.
Hiding - from what?
I thought he hid from me, but now I know he was hiding from himself.
He was a coward.
I used to hate him.
Now I hate myself for my own cowardice.
He lives so close...but I never see him.