Hero Poem by Jenny Molloy

My hero is not a like the rest, mine has changed over the years.
A 5years old would say a cartoon creation, children are inanest, they don’t know my pain.
At the age of 9 its manly a fiction carter from moves, but there not real, they are only imaginary.
As a teen we don’t use hero’s in every day life, there to child like.
I do not have a hero, I’m driftnet than them.
Mine is not fiction. Mine is not real.
I cant feel your skin any more.
You are not here.
You left me alone, in the cold and in my worst year.
It was no enough seeing me cry over my family, over my friends.
So you left me.
I was scared, I still am, I fought to keep your spirit alive.
I do not know what a hero is.
I do not care.