Is the villain just,
A broken, bleeding, hurting,
Human, or not?

Perhaps their pain is,
Justified. But does it clear,
Their slate, leaving crumbs?

Do they feel remorse?
Do they feel any regret, or
Are they too broken?

Listen to their tale,
You do not have to agree.
Show them empathy.

My hero doesn’t wear a cape,
She wears scars that are deepest.

My hero isn’t tall and strong,
She 4’11 and her shoe size is 5.

Although along her journey she may have saved lives,
The best life she saved was her own.

She doesn’t have trophies to show for her triumphs.
Nor recognized approval from the world.

Had every excuse to succumb and admit defeat,
But from the recesses of hell she came crawling.

I only know some of what she went through,
But even the smallest still makes her my hero.

When I talk to her and tell her my pain,
My thoughts flow from my mouth without hesitation.

She gives me hope and I feel less alone,
I speak to her like I speak to no other.

My hero is saving me from falling too deep,
My hero is wrapping me in her cape.

Sitting in a swirl of unease,
Hope hum's a loving tune.
Erasing traces of fear and chaos,
But clamouring to be heard in full.
A noble knight Hope becomes,
Treasured by the feeble mind,
Respected by the heroic soul.
Hope sits in the metaphysical.

Blushing with discomfort she
Calls to her knight. Hope dashing,
Settles in her mind, lifting her fear.
The villain has passed, her mind slows.
Hope the hero again, her crutch,
No need to strengthen defences.
Hope has galloped to her heed,
Back to the meta Hope rides.

Distaste swells in his soul,
Has she left his heart to die?
Will she take all that was his?
Hope storms through his thoughts,
Lifting one above all the rest.
She cares still, her thoughts are of him.
Hope, chest barrelled slips back
To the metaphysical, cozy once more.

Hope, gentle upon his throne,
See's in the distance Despair,
Who slithers up his golden steps.
She scowls at his taunting grin,
Her eyes keen on his destruction,
But today she has brought tea.
Stepping down from his holy height
Hope stands tall awaiting.
Drooling, Despair pours him
A cup. Her presence greeted
With captivation, and the two
Flow for hours in conversation,
Until both receive call from the
Physical ones again.

Brave Hero,
You wish to save the world?
With your aspirations, you can run for miles
With your dreams, you can burn through metal.
With your hopes, you can destroy even mountains.

But, Brave Hero!
You must learn your lesson!
Running is only avoidance.
Burning is only rage.
Destroying is only vengeance

Oh, Brave Hero!
You must know these three truths!
Know them in your body.
Know them in your mind.
Know them even in your soul.

Brave Hero,
It's okay if you only save one person.
It’s okay if that person is you.
It’s okay.

We are all heroes in someone’s story.
A brief moment.
A needed word.
A helping hand.

We all question if we’re the bad guy.
In the sink, we see blood.
In the mirror, we see the villain.
In our heads, we hear the victims.

We all are just normal people in the end.
Flying through life.
Saving the people we love.
Protecting what we care about.

We may be the heroes after all.

What makes a tragedy?
A hero in the wrong story
A child in the wrong household
A man in the wrong marriage
A woman in the wrong family

A hero may wear a cape,
But that doesn’t mean they’re Superman,
They all pale in comparison,
Just another human,
Whether a man or a woman,
Their motives hidden behind their ribbons
Trying to make the world a better place.

A hero may preach peace,
But that doesn’t mean they believe it,
Often it’s just about their image.
The war must go on,
Never will everyone be happy,
There’s too much to complain about,
To be ungrateful about,
To not see the beauty of the planet we call home.
The hero may say they are against this complaining,
Yet, you see them in the streets doing the exact same thing.

Never meet your heroes,
You realize how much you inflated their heroics,
When you meet them in person,
You see how, perhaps, they weren’t a hero at all.
They aren’t a villain,
Just not a hero,
Not what you originally believe,
Yet you convinced yourself they were perfect.
Perfection is a losing game.

What makes a hero?
What makes someone noble?
Or have honor?
Or courage?
People love to play these roles,
Put them on like a wolf in sheep’s clothing,
You can always spot a fake,
They just feel disingenuous.
How can you have honor,
And preach your mantra,
Yet cut in the lunch line,
Like you’re better than all of the rest behind you?
That’s not honor!
That’s being a two-faced dishonorable fraud!
Like so many people,
Who wear the “honorable” facade.

I wouldn’t call myself honorable,
I’ve done things I’m not proud of,
Made mistakes I regret,
Have demons in my heart,
Who remind me where I misstep.
I refuse to identify,
As something I’m not,
It makes me feel icky,
Dishonest, and like a fraud.
Who relishes this feeling,
Of lying for qualities they don’t have?
What do you gain?
Recognition?
Fame?
All temporary in the grand scheme of the game.

A hero isn’t pure,
They’ve done things they despise themselves for,
Yet they try their best,
To not make the same mistake again.
They try to make a change,
Instead of complaining!

A hero isn’t good,
Or great,
And certainly not extraordinary,
They’re decent,
Down to earth,
Understanding of their faults,
Yet they push forward anyway.
They try to please people,
Not worth their time,
All in an effort,
To see them smile.
They try to save people,
To far gone to save,
Yet, they try anyway,
For they can’t accept,
That some people can’t be saved,
And are lost in the darkness.

Nobility,
Not kings or queens,
But high standards and ideas,
Yet to be expressed,
They haven’t found the words.
A hero has morals,
One’s that won’t change,
Based on who they talk to,
Their code remains the same.
That’s what takes honor,
That’s what takes strength,
Being yourself despite the gremlins,
And the goblins,
And the orcs,
Being yourself,
No matter who’s watching.
“With integrity and honor,
For people to see.”
Words long forgotten,
In our memories.

Integrity requires honor,
Which requires being noble,
Which goes hand in hand with courage and bravery.
A hero is all of these things,
Combined into a pie,
And though we humans try to replicate the recipe,
We end up exploding the kitchen,
Leaving fallout in our wake.

To me the idea of a hero,
Is more reliable than seeing it in reality,
Someone so honest,
So kind,
Understanding,
And always fighting for what they believe is right.

A villain is a hero,
Just for the other side,
With other motives,
And ways of working things out,
And the hero is the villain to the villain.
Who is right and who is wrong?
The common question.
Often times it’s not so black and white,
Nuances aplenty,
If you open your eyes.
Some are just cruel,
But some have a reason for the heinous actions they do,
Occasionally,
I root for the villain.

We may come close,
But we will never see the perfect hero,
He’s already left.
While we wait,
We can dream,
And aspire to be,
Like Superman.
As the old pledge went,
“When no one else is watching,
It is up to me!”
And so it always will be,
For each of us is the hero in our own story…

you were uprooting me and not even trying to hide it....
ripping me apart from the seems on purpose.
like it gave you some sort of pleasure to sit there and destroy me.
i could feel the life being ****** out of my soul, and i screamed your name because you were supposed to be my hero.
i was drowning.... but you were the reason.
you just kept pushing me down further and further, as i screamed for help.
screaming
and
screaming
and
screaming
trying so hard to hold on, grasp anything i could to escape this torturous reality.
but you were everywhere, stabbing me from every angle.
you were supposed to save me.
my hero.