Hero

1 Comments

Tags:
  • Regret

    Hero

    HERO

    You, my hero…

    Oh how I wish that could be

    I want so badly for my heart to see.

    For I long to find in you,

    I need to see in you,

    A hero, strong and true.

     

    My heart recalls the pain

    So deep and evermore.

    The scar is still there, but

    The hurt no longer is sore.

     

    My need for you

    was more than I knew.

    But in your own agony and grief,

    You shrunk away to find relief.

    I was alone to handle my fear,

    My cries of sorrow

    you couldn’t hear.

     

    For locked away in your own distress,

    You were blind to my tears,

    So unrepressed.

     

    I wanted to see you on that

    white horse,

    Coming to save me

    Without  remorse.

    But, you were broken…

    Shining armor all astrew.

    For your previous wounds and burdens,

    I really never knew. 

            

    Then there was the marriage,

    Pain and heartbreak.

    Why did it have to be,

    Why did I quake?

    Why couldn’t I sustain,

    Standing tall?

    Working to repair,

    Through it all?

     

    It was too much

    for either of us to bear.

    So I ran far away,

    No hero was there.

     

    My heart holds no blame,

    Only regret for time past.

    It goes by so quickly,

    Flies by so fast.

     

    The hero in you,

    was not meant for me.

    God is my hero, for He

    Guides and protects me.

     

    I believe through Jesus we

    Grow and learn.

    And between love and pain,

    We soon discern.

     

    Honey, I’m committed to

    Love and endure.

    Someday you’ll be my hero,

    I know that for sure.

     

     

     

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    kingone43 commented on Hero

    07-22-2009

    Very Nice, I Liked This Poem Alot. I Look Forward To Reading More Of You Work. Once Again, Very Nice Work.

    Laurawrites

    07/22/2009

    Thank you. This is my first time on this site. I'm looking forward to reading others poetry and chatting

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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