Not everyone can be heroes.
There are us.
The cowards.
The ones that,
Quite honestly,
Are not willing to give up our lives.

We are not bad people;
We are not selfish.
We pray that we don't find ourselves in a situation
Where bravery is the desired virtue.
Where fingers will be pointed,
Insults will be thrown.

'Who cares what they think?'
We don't.
We care what you SAY.

'Don't dwell on idle threats.'
We don't.
But they are never idle.

You scoff when we flinch at the raise of your hand,
Calling out: 'wimp'.
But you are the ones
That conditioned us with fear.
We don't run from everyone,
So if we run from you
Then what have you done?
You have hurt us.
Hit us.
You repel us.
And
For some reason
We repel you.

Go ahead. Hate us.
Pressure us into doing things because we aren't strong.
Beat us because our bodies are frozen in fear.
Insult us because our lips are sown shut.

No one can be perfect.
Not everyone can be a hero.
We aren't heroes.
But neither are you.