Best Peoplehero Poems
MAVERICK FREE VERSE
A hero is not each man
Lying on green battlefields
With chest riven, bloody hands
Waving at his honoured Death.
A hero is that man,
Who grasps his broken sword
And fights fiercely, without remorse
The demons drowning like a flood
The island of his soul.
He who dares to wake the sleeping dragons,
Only to struggle against their fire,
Even if ash is the last flavor he'd taste,
His spot next to Peace reserves and merits.
Heroic only are the eyes which sight
Those lands of Glory,
Lying only few steps away
From the Other Side of the stone world.
With David's bare hands
A hero angrily attacks against Goliathic fears,
Seeking the final redemption, the brightest triumph
For his troubled, divided soul.
Within a Solitude, never to be restored
A lonely rider chases the fifth Season.
Blessed is this man, who cries
With Heaven tears of freedom,
Tenderly embracing his fragile human traces.
Is there any deed more gallant, after all?
When I was a kid, my hero was Huckleberry Finn,
his outlook, and conditions under which he lived,
especially his feelings about school,
I just knew, I had to get cool.
Devil be damned, it was a good way,
I would give it a try for a couple of days.
Off I went early on a summer morn,
after eight hours sleep; it was recommended,
in that day.
I set off to pirate and seek my way,
no plan, but high spirited anyway.
When mom discovered I was nowhere to be found,
she set the police to run me to ground,
did not take long, sitting on a bench,
barefooted, wearing dads old straw hat;
eating an apple from great aunties tree.
Yep, Huckleberry would be proud of me.
When I got home, the reaction,
not quite what I dreamed, no girl in the end,
I got brained instead; figured I had better find
another hero before I got dead.
Now my hero is most like me,
his name is Goofy.