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Heroes
by
Shannon Billings
The cold bottle on their cracking lips
The sweet stench of their delusions
The blackening lungs with each breath
Our heroes are different here
The shining metal of their kitchen knives
The glistening point of a needle dream
The loudest music drowning out their pain
No, our heroes aren’t the same
When all lost faith in them
They assumed the rest were right
And through the darkness
They knew it was a hopeless fight
They know this is wrong
But they have nothing
And they knew that all along
No one to trust
With so many knives in their backs
Faded souls at barely fifteen
You closed your eyes
When they needed to be seen
Yes they’re the troubled youth
And the hopeless future
They’re the black in the night
They’re the ones who lost the fight
They’re the forlorn
They are the forgotten
Nothing to believe in
Everything to lose
They’re the beginning
And they are the end
They are the problem
Without a sum
They are what happens
When the real heroes never come
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