|Best Poems About / On HERO
How Long Will The Hero Go Beating The Villain?
It appears almost ludicrous to see the hero beating the villain in public
And the poor and helpless villain getting a good beating
Into the hands of the hero,
Who is an expert of judo, karate, boxing and kung-fu,
The martial arts and fighting skills.
Just for a girl, as for love at first sight, at first glance, he can do marvels,
Can kick and fight with,
The hero fighting with so many,
From the slums turning into a capitalist,
A big man,
How can it be?
The poor villain is often presented in a bad light,
But the reality is this that the hero not a hero,
But a villain
And the villain a hero in real life,
Which but you know not,
I know it not.
They show it falsely and misguide the emotional public,
Which is men like me,
They dodge and turn away from them
And these lead to violence and spilling of blood,
Youngsters like to behave in that way.
But the truth far from,
A superstar can spoil the life of a girl for an extra-marital affair,
While the other may be found in a live-in relationship,
While the other may keep two wives,
While the other will run away with the wife of another,
The big boss word may be just a linguistic jargon,
I do not know it who is whose boss?
The villain who indulges in murder and violence do not do it really,
But the simple minds will catch it
Without feeling about the consequences,
The fire arms will lure them
And to smoke, drink and dance common,
But everything has got a limit.
The side heroine too is a beautiful girl,
But she has not got the part
And this is for which she suffers and bears the brunt.
Bijay Kant Dubey
Read more poems from Bijay Kant Dubey >>>
The Forgotten Hero
He rambles, solitary along the streets, His body enervated with aching feet,
Hes spent half his life deserted and alone, Heading for destinations unknown.
His clothes are soiled, rancid and torn, The shoes on his feet are totally worn,
A carrier bag holds his only effects, An outcast, an exile one of societies rejects.
Just a forgotten hero, who done his country proud,
But now he is forgotten, just a beggar in the crowd.
Hes an old man now, going on seventy four, A veteran and hero of the second world war,
The medals on his chest, he will not trade, Theyre just a small reminder of the price so many paid.
A heroes welcome he received, in 1945, Now he struggles day by day just to stay alive,
By day he sits there begging, with memories in his head, Of the wounded and the dying and the ones he left for dead.
Just a forgotten hero, begging amongst the crowd,
Huddled in a doorway, a blanket, his only shroud.
The blinds of darkness are pulled upon day, Its time to find a place to stay,
Headed for the local park, He makes his way through the shadows of dark.
Its minus two and he shivers alone, Stretched out on a park bench, his icicle home,
The sequestered memories of his life flash by, As his haggard body lets out a sigh.
Just a forgotten hero, sleeping out in the cold,
A park bench as a bed, no place for the old.
Hes found in the morning, by a passer-by, She stares, sheds a tear and asks herself why,
Hes no longer a burden or public liability, now that hes found his peace, and tranquillity.
On his grave there is no inscription, No cross or stone of any description,
A mound of earth marks where he lay, But hes still not known, even to this day.
Just a forgotten hero, who done his country proud,
Not even missed by the apathetic crowd.
Read more poems from welshrebel GMR >>>
When The Princess Becomes The Dragon
Everything reminds me of you
Every song, every book, every hero to every story.
You could be the hero
You always try to be the hero
You could be my hero
The white knight at the end of my fairytale.
Could have: would be IF the princess wasn't the dragon.
Some people shouldn't be saved
Some people should only save.
Everything needs to be earned
So pardon me if I don't hand myself over to you.
Not that I'm worth all the work,
But it's become clear that I'm worth more than you're willing to pay.
I'm all closed up, no part of me is free.
And your empty promises aren't worth shit.
Those rushed excuses that always manage to put the blame on me for your stupid hurtful actions.
So, I'm sorry for all the shit I've dragged you through
So sorry for all the games.
Sorry that the princess became the dragon.
And I'm sorry that you couldn't be the hero this time.
But being the hero must be pretty hard when the knight becomes the dagger.
Read more poems from Delaney Rose >>>
Just Life (Part 1)
There are not a lot of things I love about life
One of those things is the fact that everything
I identify with in this life is short lived
Starting with life itself
It sucks to think that everything I am,
and all that I know is temporary
Love, life, relationship all is but temporary
I have always waited to be wise
The coronation of the wise always happens with every passing day
So I lay in wait to write my memoir
I want it filled with wisdom of that of a 100 year old
But then that old lady said
I still do not know it all at 100 years old
How much longer do I have to live in order to know it all then?
My biggest misconception is marriage
Its 24hrs and I Still cant get my head around why people get married
I guess if you find out please let me know
Why cant they just be who they are?
Why all the celebration?
Am I different or are others asking the same question?
Whose idea is it that people get married in the first place?
The world needs a hero
Are you a hero?
Because real heroes die like everyone else
Real heroes want to be wise like everyone else
And get married like everyone else
And when that hero arrives
The hero is not afraid to be different
Read more poems from David Beckham >>>