I was born to be great.
I woke in the arms of hope,
seeing only the eyes of promise;
my mother's undying faith,
my father's immovable justification,
their simple truths bore me to greatness.

My mother's faith, it quivered;
Assaulted by unjust circumstance.
My father's justification, it faltered.
Achilles struck down by his own heel.
I rallied with mediocrity, shamefully.
I fought valiantly to be worse.

The immovable struggles to stay above water,
the faithful begs to be saved, to be helped.
I trip over my own words,
the wrong moments define me.
Disappointment cast my way like a brick,
I was born to be great.

I have seen heroes fall,
Watched villains be slain.
Never have I witnessed the shadows.
The shadows of the once-great,
towering over them--looming with regret,
encompassing the fallen with the question:

What if?