This is an old post from four years ago, but a fellow blogger featured it this week, so I thought I’d re-post it. In the original post I said, “I can hardly watch TV these days; it reminds me too much of the real world, and it appears to me this world has gone to hell. I find myself looking around and wondering; where have all the heroes gone?” As I re-read this, the thought occurred to me; who are the heroes of the younger generation today?
They rode horses, wore white hats
Fought for what they believed was right
And ran the bad guys out of town
They looked out for their neighbors
Those who couldn’t defend themselves
When I was six, I was the Lone Ranger
And at the same time Superman
Ever ready to stand against anyone or anything
That dared to come against
Truth, justice, and the American way
When I was eight, I was Paladin
A black hat this time, and more rugged
But a hero still, who righted wrongs
And would go anywhere
To correct injustice and defend the defenseless
When I was ten, I was John Wayne
I learned to walk like him
Tried to make my voice deep like his
And hoped I’d grow to be tall, broad shouldered and brave
But mostly, I wanted to be a good man
A superb man, a combination of all of them
Those heroes who cared little for themselves
But lived for what they could do for others
Yes, it was just television
And all my heroes were make-believe
But they made me believe and they taught me
About right and wrong, and so many things
Where have all the heroes gone?
Who do we turn to now?
What is truth, or justice?
And, what is the American way?
My heroes stood proud and tall
Hands on their hips, ready to fight
For a way of life and a country they loved
Even though it was flawed in so many ways
I love my country
But it is a love like one has for a dying loved one
And I watch her now, slumbering in drugged apathy
Gurgling immorality, indecency, and corruption
Like a death rattle in cancer-ridden lungs
Atop her aged trembling hand, I place my own
And I ache within, realizing even should she survive
A mere shadowy skeleton of what she once was
Is all that will remain
I think back on those days of yesteryear
Days when this country stood strong and proud
And I see her slowly succumbing to darkness
With no heroes to swoop to her rescue
I stare at the floor… and silently, I weep
Copyright © 2012 C. Mashburn