Maleficent Magazine | Page 52

Heroes Die

Heroes die.

The reindeer had fallen.

Trash cans drop like flies.

Death came to town in stealth and glory.

To fight the Uncivil War.

Heroes die.

Eyes front, face to the wind.

The Fall came from behind.

Who’s not there when thought to be?

Who’s there but does not belong?

Heroes die.

In the field they once stood in glory.

Now death is all that remains.

Moneychangers own all the temples.

He died trying,

Heroes die in hope.

Change comes.

Count it, just to be sure.

Count on the hero in you.

Honor the fallen hero.

Just An Old Blanket

It was just an old blanket.

From a mother to a son.

A crochet little nothing.

From a lady dead and gone.

A torn and worn blanket.

Loved more than any gold.

Thanks for saying hey there.

For talks about sweet nothings.

Thanks for seeing my eyes.

Inside where my tears tried to hide.

It was just an old blanket.

That warmed on coldest days.

A crochet little nothing.

That loved him while he slept.