Is It Poetry
Men and women,
whom never think about
all the memories.
Butterflies in flight,
they must then become.
To die for a child.
To die the good fight.
To die for you.
To know what fear is,
despite the color of our skin.
The lonely hearts and would I.
Alone looking up at the moon.
Without the end in sight.
The lone parent whom fights,
for each child.
They are the heart of each sun.
They are the light we all feel.
They are the stars that are bright.
They are the many whom have died.
One soldier is so far away.
Looking at each picture of you.
Understanding the cost.
What are they to those few.
True Hero's greet all the rest.
As if the wind never came.
The sea and beyond the dark edge.
The edge where the light only grew.
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Comments about this poem (True Hero's by Is It Poetry )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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