Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
In every story there is a hero. Someone we can all look up to, someone who can make things all okay. Nothing is more terrifying then being the hero in your own story over and over again. You look around to see if anyone will save you, hoping someone will take your hand and free you from this mess. But time and time again, you must save yourself. You must prove yourself to the adversaries around you. You must pick yourself up and climb that ledge again. Time, after time. After awhile, you come to know only yourself. You come to depend only on yourself. When the hands come reaching forth, you are unsure if it is to help or hinder. Will the hand strike you? Or is it offering assistance? Without fail, it seems they only want to strike you. So whenever the hand reached forth, saviour or not, you snap at it before it has the chance to hurt you. People around you think you are jaded. Selfish. Mean. Cruel. Now, in all instances you are left to be considered the villain in everyone else’s story. When all this time, You were just being your own hero.
0
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 9:03 AM UTC
Untitled
In every story there is a hero. Someone we can all look up to, someone who can make things all okay. Nothing is more terrifying then being the hero in your own story over and over again. You look around to see if anyone will save you, hoping someone will take your hand and free you from this mess. But time and time again, you must save yourself. You must prove yourself to the adversaries around you. You must pick yourself up and climb that ledge again. Time, after time. After awhile, you come to know only yourself. You come to depend only on yourself. When the hands come reaching forth, you are unsure if it is to help or hinder. Will the hand strike you? Or is it offering assistance? Without fail, it seems they only want to strike you. So whenever the hand reached forth, saviour or not, you snap at it before it has the chance to hurt you. People around you think you are jaded. Selfish. Mean. Cruel. Now, in all instances you are left to be considered the villain in everyone else’s story. When all this time, You were just being your own hero.
Wylder
Written by
28/Canada
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 9:03 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem