Streets lined with confetti
Cheering crowds waving flags
Delighted squeals of the young child
Even destitutes on holiday
And the sun burning its merry way on the sidewalks

Ascent of the podium
Big bow to everybody
More cheers
Slogans read: long live the hero
Happy days to come
and, no one shall stand in our way

The people hush
they quiet as the microphone moves closer
a smile:

I am no hero

––a pause––a cheer––

I am no hero

––another pause––no cheers––

There is no glory in killing
no honour in ending a life
that could have gone on to be so much more
a person who
had their own hopes
dreams––––––––––

––all is quiet over the square
and the sun continues to shine––

––––and people who loved them

There is no joy
in dealing pain
––and pain that never heals

––––silence––––




––a child cries––


a pain that is my pain
a pain that never goes away
a pain of hearing the last words of someone
who could have easily been your friend
your neighbour
your teammate
your best man
your brother––––

They always say: tell them... I love them
and who shall carry out this task?
the one who slew them?

––––––––––––––––––––

so I keep it with me
forever, and perhaps in time
someone will pass it on

––––mostly they stay ungiven
until this generation passes
and that unhealing pain follows us away
and then we go on over and over again

So I don't think that we should say
that we are heroes today
we are no heroes
we are only survivors
victims of a dying breed
and ebbing slowly.

––––a silence––––

The sun continues to shine.