Generational Hero
Fire in my face while I'm trying to escape;
sweat violent, and like rain, driving me insane.
Panic rushes while havoc crushes my bike and all my games.
Breathing seizes as I see some people striding through the frame.
Trails and tunnel vision - orange flames and bloody crimson.
I wonder if they'll see me as I fade and hug my Piglet....
Sirens blasting, an asbestos blanket and an oxygen mask.
A lone cop, erratic breathing, covered in blotches of ash.
Fire hoses, artificial rain, my home long in the past.
A sigh of relief - fine, but I'm weak
..and gone with a CRASH.
A hospital bed, a throb in my head, a bunch of visiting people.
Worried parents, balloons and clones of my mystical hero.
All I remember is the uniform, not his physical features -
the beginning to a summer of "Wish You Were Here" sir....
That winter I couldn't wait for Christmas, to shop -
The house was rebuilt and my pops expected my wishlist to drop.
I wanted Lego sets and action figures themed in the interest of cops -
But I was hoping they saw me eying the BB gun pistol in stock.
My vision was locked, squeezing hard on my dads hand -
because I wanted to imitate my guardian man, BAD.
I grew up before tablets and WiFi; when having a right mind
meant making decisions based on morals that stand to define why.
I played cops and robbers by day, never imagined a night life,
and generally worked to hear people say "Dan, you're a fine guy."
In school I wrestled and ran - what else do you expect of a man?
I was senseless and grand when I had a girl held in my hands.
Never on the fence with a plan - what else do you expect of a man?
Ideas became dreams, and my dreams became a quest that I'd land.
I passed the academy and started racking a salary
by catching the baddest beasts with a ratchet, a badge, and sneaks.
I'm losing faith in a culture that's unprosperous and costly.
We went from "Cowboys or Indians?" to "Autobots or the zombies?"
"Monogamous or Molly?" Why choose between unconsciousness or folly?
I stand for age old tradition and everything forgotten in the calling
'cause I want to protect the children in the vein of every father.
...Then I get my next call:
"suspect's name is Eric Garner."
"All things truly wicked start from innocence."
-Ernest Hemingway