Hello Poetry is a poetry community that raises money by advertising to passing readers like yourself.

If you're into poetry and meeting other poets, join us to remove ads and share your poetry. It's totally free.
How badly I wanted to be
A Hero
to be exact
The Hero of your story
cause life is full
of twist and turns
that I believe
heroes will not be forgotten
I wanted to be the Hero
so won't forget about me

So I started to be one
to you and only you
I was the hero when you where crying
held your hands
when your life was rough
said we will push through
cause I'm here for you
as a start it was easy
because when I held your hands
you held mine
I said I could really do this
protected you from all the harm
you paid me with a sweet smile
that had me charmed

Eventually you got used to it
that I will always have your back
that's why you never look back
you got used to the Hero
that will always look out for you
that you forgot to look at the hero
Now its starting to get hard
cause I wanted to be the your HERO
so you wont forget about me
but life doesn't work like that I see
cause the Hero
I wanted to be remembered
have been forgotten
no notes just words
( Tanka for my father )
_

honest man of grit

no nonsense but so caring

shared your life with me


rescued me from orphan's plight

showed me what it means to love

_


rob kistner © 2018
I read "Fellow Passenger" this morning, a wonderful poem from Pradip Chattopadhyay. It put a lump in my throat and stirred warm memories of Bob, the man who adopted me and made me his grateful, though frequently headstrong son.
It has been 35 years since my father passed, but he is frequently on my mind, and often in conversations I have with my son. Dad was a nose-to-the-grindstone, hard working man, who never graduated high school. But he was brilliant in the knowledge of how to live and love life, and the need to unselfishly share what one has. A man of great integrity, he taught me how to be a man, and the meaning of decency and dignity. I miss him greatly. He was my salvation and my hero.

Pradip's piece sparked this tanka, a love note to my father.
Pastelblitz Oct 5
Guess I messed up
Guess I made a bad call
But I have no idea
What I could have done different

One little choice
One small action
One coincidence of thought
And the lights went out

I want to dance
Want to gaze at the sky
Want to take a picture
Of the end of the world

I never thought
Things really die
Not in real life, in real life
There’s no such thing as ghosts

I am not a hero
I am not a movie star
I am not a genius
I am not a monk
I’m not special
I’m the same as anyone else

You and I
We were always a mess
Drinking our bourbon
Screaming in the streets

When I saw you coming
Ice and rage in your eyes
I put on my armor and my shield
And sharpened my sword

I am not a hero
I am not a movie star
I am not a genius
I am not a monk
I’m not special
I’m the same as you

You
You were there too
You drove that train
Right through my heart

You
You were there too
You drove that train
Right through my heart

But I guess it’s time
To put that to bed
I guess it’s time
To let the dead be dead
Lyric and music by Dave Malloy. I decided to post this because I relate to this a lot. It’s such an emotional piece and Brittain (Rose) sings it with such passion. It’s such a good song, the first time I sang it I sobbed.
Kada Oct 5
She cares for those more than herself
She wipes the tears of others as if they were her own
Without hesitation she takes on the battles of many.

They are left untouched but she isn't.
Her bruises and scares represent those she protected because she's an empath.
Every feeling and emotion surges through her body
like a cut to the wrist
and a blow to the chest.

The moment they disappear so will she.

                                                                                   -Kada
All superheros don't wear capes.
Hartaz Kaur Oct 3
The constant oscillation around decisions that bind
The eternal struggle between heart and mind

Choose your virtues, and let them serve you
They may not confine you, but they will define you

Rise above in courage and faith,
Stand your ground, bite no bait

A circle smaller, but what does it matter
True friends you acquire, unhand the admirer

You'd do away with all things shallow,
If you are to rest easy on your pillow

The sun will shine bright in the morrow,
And you'd rise again to be your hero
Still trying to figure out where the truth lies.
Deep Beneath me or up in the sky,
Wherever it lies it must find a way out,
And open to the crowd.
You are looking at me from a distance,
Trying to develop a thought about me,
Believe me you cannot until you come and witness,
The horrors that I have faced ,
The Devil's that I have clinched,
Or possibly the devil that I have become.
I can be the soldier, I can be the warrior ,I can be the game
But wait a minute, I think I have the power to change the game.
We may not together come to an end, but separated we may die as "just" friends.
You have been with me not for a long time,
but I think it is enough to call you mine.
I won't say you are the end to my journey, but you are the companion to the end,
The end has to come and it will come.
If Living with the Legend, I may  climb the sky
And call it an achievement, that will make me climb.
But if I am living with human like me, even a jump in the sky.
It would  not make me, but it will drive me to the farthest end.
I want to be smart enough to be called a human,
But also fool enough to not be a legend.
Going by the basics I am still a kid,
But by the age I'm old enough to be called a teen.
I have began like a kid but would end like a hero one day.
A little girl sang a song on the streets
About men, tired fighting the war
About the ships that left
And all who forgot their joy to the end.

She sang in her clean voice and flew up to highness
And sunbeams shined on her shoulder
Everyone saw and heard from the darkness
The dirty and torn clothes singing in the light.

All of them were sure that joy would come
Because ships arrived at beach
The people in the land of war
Regained their bearings are happy.

Sweet was her voice and the sun’s beam around
And by heaven’s gate
The little girl versed into mysteries and mourned
Because none of them will ever be returned.
The satin gown of hope a myth
      
            The hero's fallen to
                                                the abyss

The bloom of death, no longer risen
Our souls trapped in endless prison

        Existence the master of all masked curses
    
              A song of tragedy with endless verses

   So if dying breath comes anyway
                  What's it matter
                 How soon the day

All suns set
Some plan no dawn
They care not for those who mourn

           I wish for myself
      The blood to stop
     To soon not hold
   A single drop

So I promise you my heart for free
       If you swear
   You'll rip it out of me
why doesn't hello poetry like metaphorical Shakespearean poetry? its so pretty?
Data Sep 21
The warrior returns
When the battle is done
Home to the care
And the love of his one,
He sets himself down
In the warmth and the light
and closes his eyes
to sleep the long night.

__________________­____________________

­

By Data © Sept. 2018
This short poem was written to honour the life & heroic battle of Daniel Thomas (a.k.a PeeWeeToms) whose struggle to fight a rare cancer is truly inspirational.

It now seems that Dan's time on earth is nearly done... I thank him for his courage and good humour, and (for whatever is next) I wish him the fondest farewell. Kia kaha, Dan

https://www.youtube.com/user/peeweetoms/about
Next page