Everyone needs a hero. Every hero
needs a hero.
These poems are getting that message by righting all about heroes.
My Hero's
My hero's aren't in comics
My hero's don't wear capes
My hero's
don't battle mythical
Monsters
My hero's don't have a special call
My
hero's aren't talked about daily
No,
My hero's are real
My hero's
wear green
My hero's risk their lives
For the ones they love
My hero's
risk so much
For so little in return
My hero's aren't invincible
My
hero's are normal people
With big hearts
My hero's aren't perfect
My
hero's make mistakes
But my hero's are
Courageous
Brave
And
honorable
My hero's fight for the red white and blue
My hero's fight for
me and you
Hero's
Hero’s come in all shapes and sizes
Some of them are big
surprises
Matters not just who they are
They come from near and some so
far
Making our world a better place
To live our life in this humane
race
Some don’t know just what they have done
But that hero lives inside
every one
Now sit and think deep down inside
What’s gone passed in
your life
The littlest thing that’s helped someone
Your their hero and now
you one
Remember all our hero’s now
When at home or in your car
You
can be sure one won’t be far
Chellaston
Jim O'Donnell
The Hero's hero
He was the one I never questioned would be there,
the one I never
expected would go
so far I can't find him now.
and I can't.
He was
the one I never thought of as mortal,
the one I believed in no matter
what seemed to come between
but he's died.
He was the one who was
truly heroic,
giving every beat of his heart,
giving every gleam in his
eye,
giving more than half of his life
giving up his life, and people
call me a savior?
He was more than I have the wit,
or the heart to
tell,
He was more than I have the words,
or the reason to know,
He
brought the wit and the heart,
He brought the words
and the reason back
into my life
so many times.
How can I tell him?
How can I tell
anyone?
The hollowness, the howling, aching, raging grief I feel
The
helpless, numbing, mindless, voiceless loss I feel.
Just to call him friend,
which he was so much,
or even brother, which he was so much more than,
or even more than that is not enough,
cannot be enough, will never be
enough.
So, I suppose I can only say: He...was *my* hero.
Gabrielle Ciarann Roniyah Baer
These poems are getting that message by righting all about heroes.
My Hero's
My hero's aren't in comics
My hero's don't wear capes
My hero's
don't battle mythical
Monsters
My hero's don't have a special call
My
hero's aren't talked about daily
No,
My hero's are real
My hero's
wear green
My hero's risk their lives
For the ones they love
My hero's
risk so much
For so little in return
My hero's aren't invincible
My
hero's are normal people
With big hearts
My hero's aren't perfect
My
hero's make mistakes
But my hero's are
Courageous
Brave
And
honorable
My hero's fight for the red white and blue
My hero's fight for
me and you
Hero's
Hero’s come in all shapes and sizes
Some of them are big
surprises
Matters not just who they are
They come from near and some so
far
Making our world a better place
To live our life in this humane
race
Some don’t know just what they have done
But that hero lives inside
every one
Now sit and think deep down inside
What’s gone passed in
your life
The littlest thing that’s helped someone
Your their hero and now
you one
Remember all our hero’s now
When at home or in your car
You
can be sure one won’t be far
Chellaston
Jim O'Donnell
The Hero's hero
He was the one I never questioned would be there,
the one I never
expected would go
so far I can't find him now.
and I can't.
He was
the one I never thought of as mortal,
the one I believed in no matter
what seemed to come between
but he's died.
He was the one who was
truly heroic,
giving every beat of his heart,
giving every gleam in his
eye,
giving more than half of his life
giving up his life, and people
call me a savior?
He was more than I have the wit,
or the heart to
tell,
He was more than I have the words,
or the reason to know,
He
brought the wit and the heart,
He brought the words
and the reason back
into my life
so many times.
How can I tell him?
How can I tell
anyone?
The hollowness, the howling, aching, raging grief I feel
The
helpless, numbing, mindless, voiceless loss I feel.
Just to call him friend,
which he was so much,
or even brother, which he was so much more than,
or even more than that is not enough,
cannot be enough, will never be
enough.
So, I suppose I can only say: He...was *my* hero.
Gabrielle Ciarann Roniyah Baer