Hero

Left alone on the curb I sat and watched
the hero of my youth parade by.

On the back of a shiny white steed
a glow rose up into a broad stance,
a knight upon his mount.

Images of silver and gold armour his moist bronzed brow.
The bravados shield he carries was fashioned from
a material unknown to the common man of inexperience.

Scars upon his face and hands map out battles won and lost
which join with lines, the roads of time spent.

Dust kicks up to tail his passing.

Slowly he fades from view, the few who knew
a simple man upon an animal strong and true.

This man was once a boy,
sat alone with his toy
on the curb watching
his hero parade by.

©WRM