Words by Soberflight

poetry and musings

Month: January, 2019

Hero (Prompt by Cubby)

A hero is born, not from the laurels of glory,

But from his own righteous heart.

Accolades are not what spur him on,

And fear may slow his start.

 

To right a wrong or promote a cause,

His sword may be his words or deeds,

For a hero wields, despite his fear,

Whatever weapon he needs.

 

Though laurels bestowed, and accolades,

It’s not what a hero would seek;

He  tries to defend, put right and amend,

In a manner both righteous and meek.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hanging On (Riff to Cubby’s “Moving On”)

Sorrow, so hard to leave behind
When it’s imbedded in my mind.
It hides there, in disguise,
Somewhere deep behind my eyes.

Though I choose to not dwell,
And leave behind my private hell,
It follows me as if tied
By all the tears that now have dried

Creation

If I had the power of creation

Strength borrowed from the blazing sun,

I’d start the world over again,

Life as it had begun.

 

I’d try to remove the one small thing

That eventually brought us to ruin,

And that, I believe, is egotistical pride

In ourselves and what we’ve been doing.

 

I know God’s plan was better than this,

Eden was  a beautiful place.

I almost think His one mistake

Was creating the whole human race.