In the long or short expanse of your life
can you say you have become a hero?
I often wonder if I’ll be remembered
for anything important when I’m gone.
No biological children to carry my name
no feats that brought me fame
no bravery to save a life in danger
no building or great wealthy gain
no great status or social changer.

But more and more lately
being considered or thought of greatly
is not my concern.
Now-a-days I ask myself if I’ve taken time
to listen or smile or write a rhyme
to pause for a minute or an hour
to stop, notice and smell a flower?
Have I spoken kindly in a bad mood
or shut up when someone was rude
or let traffic in my lane
or fed my soul as well as my brain?

Today I ask not if I am a hero
but simply if I am becoming.

“Becoming a Hero,” Copyright ©2017 by Glenn Currier

Just like those people who stop at resturaunts to go to the bathroom and leave
I feel the same exact way with people using me
I don't know if some of them will ever notice that I deserve emotional profit too

I've given up on giving up
Whats the point of stopping halfway down the mile stretch
I've broken down a million times
Reconstruct me into something stronger
I've cried on a daily basis
Let this be the fuel for my future confrontations
I've wanted to end my life on so many occasions
I should stop playing God and allow myself to die naturally
I've always thought my life was full of negatives
When in reality,  every negative has a opposite
A positive. And that is worth waiting for

(for my brother, Martin)

I have sown the moon in the sky for you
so every night its there for you to see

I have stopped every clock from ticking time away
I have turned the tides back from the shore

I have stopped your world in blue belled Spring
and locked my in the falling leaves of Autumn

So now you can rewind the moments of the world
You can go back, to that one moment of choice

and never find the hose, nor set the engine deadly running
nor send those texts of fond farewells, to friends who looked away

nor write to me with love a comfort letter
for the dreadful loss.

No!
Just you:

the tufted, still blonde cowlick sticking up
the crinkled nose and cheeky smile
those sea blue eyes to drown in
strong brown arms, muscles flexed and toned
wrapped tight around me warm
and alive.


© M.L.Emmett