Sometimes I like to scribble down a few lines of poetry. Sometimes the lines are not bad and other times they are not really terribly good, I suppose, but they serve a purpose, at least at the time I write them.
Here’s one I always thought could be a song. It’s for the unsung heroes – all of us. We know who we are.
(I think it’s that aspirant 60s child in me coming out again…. )
You and me, we’re heroes too
Two warring leaders went to peace;
The world gave a ringing cheer.
Greenpeace waved the whaling finger
Their principles blindingly clear.
The cameraman fell in the gunfire;
He fell in a blaze of glory
And he, in a way, was lucky –
His, too, was a public story:
But unsung heroes are heroes too
And everyone knows at least one or two.
A medic died of ebola;
The media promptly went ape.
The Red Cross braved the conflicts as
The borders changed their shape.
Some single guy traversed Antarctica–
Quite alone, no dogs in sight
While back at home the babies cry
For solace in the night.
And single mothers are heroes too
And I say they deserve their due.
The boy-soldiers went to war on
The old men’s dashing whims
And of all the things that tap my tears
Disability’s the dreaded thing.
Yet we all of us have our crosses
And our losses, and our pain
And sorrow’s returning burden
Is the world’s oldest refrain:
So we just carry on; it’s what we do –
Yes, you and me: we’re heroes too.
copyright Vivienne Fouche 1996