I’ve seen their anguish
I’ve seen them cry
I’ve seen them stare life down
right in the eye.
 
I’ve seen them fight for their family
and work hard for its good name.
We’ve seen them put liars to roost
and cheaters to shame.
The greatest Country of them all,
America, is the same.
 
There’s just no pair we love more,
whose growls we love to hear
they’re the den mother and den father of us all
they’re our momma and papa bear.
 
The forest is deep and thick
a cub could lose its way.
The things they hear in school
are opposite of what their parents say.
They’re confused, as confused can be
but at days end, they needn’t be.
 
Parents know what’s best for their cub
they’re the calm in the midst of all the hubbub.
Their thoughts, wisdom and teaching
are wrapped up in in a mountain of love
and guided by a plethora of prayers from above.
 
There’s just no pair we love more,
whose growls for those who need to fear, we love to hear.
They’re the den mother and den father of us all,
they’re our momma and papa bear.

You no longer can pass the buck
Looks like you ran out of luck
Most people are burned out to the nines
The world’s pressing in
We feel naked as sin
We’re looking for a glimmer of hope
 
So, I call out in the dark
You can hear evil’s vicious bay
The words over and over, again I’ll say
A frantic call, I need to tell it all
 
Is there a hero amongst us?
One who can break from the pack
One who’s able to separate us from the chaos
which tries to hold us all back
 
Is there a hero amongst us?
One who seeks to carve the way
 to a righteous understanding
that each of us seek today
 
I don’t seem to have found that hero amongst us
Even those who say they are, have failed to be
Maybe the hero I’m looking for
Is the hero deep within me
 
Maybe, I shouldn’t look to others
to show me the way to live the life
I dream about every night and everyday
Why do I keep searching for a hero?
The ones I found have undoubtedly let me down
Maybe I should look deeper within myself
Perhaps that’s where a hero can be found
 
No need to be the strongest or the most wise
Just be the person amongst us
who can live life without deception and lies
One who looks at the glass of life as half full
Who sees the silver lining in every cloud
Who easily navigates life’s ebbs and flows
Who’s not prideful but empowered by all that they know
Who is tenacious and always finds a way
 
The hero I’m looking for
has the ability to give love in its purest form
Love all others as themself
and never cause anyone a bit of harm
 
It seems that I can’t find a hero amongst us
and even those who say they are, have failed to be
Maybe the hero that I’m looking begins right here, with me

It was his castle within his house,
a chair he appropriated only to himself.
A safe haven from us all,
a safe haven from the world,
tattered and torn, it had a life all of its own.
 
My father’s chair was his space, his place,
his time to wrap himself up in his thoughts
unencumbered by the presence of us all,
in a house ever too small.
A moat around it kept him out of reach.
 An invisible barrier no one dared to breach,
or a different man they would greet.
One they would not recognize; one they would not like to meet.
Whatever it was that danced in his head,
the entangled highway his memories fed,
he kept far from his family, thoughts he never said.
They were still too near for his liking, lurking like a bear,
as he looked out from his fortress, as he looked out from his chair.
 
Like many of the men of his generation who fought in the war,
my father was world worn his innocence now obscure.
He loved his children, our safety he vowed to maintain.
His beloved wife understood too well, he was forever a changed man.
Although a belly laugh occasionally escaped him,
it was laced with something more, something grim.
His family and most friends couldn’t understand
the constant nightmares and unreasonable fear that kept him bound.
His battle was invisible, but he’d experienced it all first hand.
As he sat in his chair, he never let it show,
his constant wrestling his demons to the ground.
He never wanted us to know.
 
Not formerly educated, my father was well read;
A tradesman who worked with his hands but always used his head.
Our hero could be quiet and stormy, but never violent.
To me, he was nothing short of brilliant,
Sitting in his chair, I can just see him right now,
 a wreath of smoke from his cigarette, hovering over him like a halo.
I think of my father often, he left us years ago.
With each passing day, I feel I know him better,
and understand the man, whose presence is always at my center.
His example shines a light
as I wrestle in the day to day, trying to get it right.
 
It was his castle within his house,
a chair he appropriated only to himself.

The lines furrow deeply on my face
and go to a destination unknown.
​The lines of sorrow have significantly grown
because life’s challenges piled on.
There is nothing to smooth them out,
to make the furrows gone.
Then there are those happy lines
from times that brighten my smile.
They used to come frequently
but now, only once in a long while.
There should be more of them
but regrettably there’s not.
Some of my happiest times
unfortunately, I’ve forgot.
Then there are those other lines
random ones, that complete my facial map.
These furrows are a pattern
that every morning surprise me.
A man much older than I am
in the mirror, is the man I now see.
As I look back anxiously
my youthful skin is gone.
It slipped away as the years passed by
and the hollows piled on.
But every line has a story
that can be proudly told.
I hope to reflect on all of them
before I get too old.
When I was a young man
the mirror was very kind.
I used to stare at myself quite a bit,
I thought I looked divine.
I am an older man, older by many years
and my face now shows the map of my life,
my hopes, my loves, my tears.
It may look like a quagmire scaled to the nines,
 but as I look back over all my years,
 I think that that’s just fine.