I will call today's selection an elegy. I had chance to talk with a citizen who used to be an officer. He was a good street cop, when his head was screwed on right. But as time went on, he slipped further and further away from the type of reality needed to do a job like this, in a place like the one where I work.
Elegy For A Former Hero
What happens to heroes when the fight is done
And the reason for living has passed?
Do they lay down their arms when the battle is won
And enjoy a victors repast?
Or does a warrior continue to fight
And to the next battle enjoin?
From village to village, by day and night
His reward a few simple coins.
A hero once walked among my workers and I
Who's knowledge and skill were unmatched.
His brain was the center of concern on high
From reality he seemed detached.
To watch as he worked was amazing to see
His knowledge and skill to intake
With evil and shadow in the middle he'd be
Never shrinking from rogue or from rake.
But more often than not, his mind was a mess
A muddled, confusing brain his
To all those around him he seemed very teched,
No genius was he, no whiz.
To no one's surprise the hero gave up
And turned from the life he'd held most dear
His leaving the group was a massive disrupt
Made more so since he still lived so near
He's fallen from grace, and into the drink
Drowning his sharp mind with beer
Bitter and lonely, it's caused me to think
What our work can do to ones cheer.
Farewell to you warrior, we wish you the best
Though it seems like you've given up hope
Someday I hope you can simply find rest
And until then can find ways to cope.
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