Editor’s note: This poem is not autobiographical. It is just fiction.
He Was My Hero
He was my hero
Flaws and all
Similar mistrusts
Insecurities and looks
Hair that hides the eyes to the world
Those windows to the soul
Invisible behind that curtain
A mind of a voyeur
He was not perverse in his observation
That withdrawn presence was just an act
While they went on with their usual hubris
He just sat back and laughed
Quietly by himself
They found it strange to hear those muffled giggles
He was just a child when
He saw through the biggest lie
Those promises others bought into
Social standards, moral ties
A skeptic of mass hysteria
The dangers in the herd
Disagreements of the holy
Who aren’t so pious in their beds
He would not give into perversion
Of any prophets, of any saints,
He saw the dangers in their masses
He chose a different state
A rejection of their claims
An inner peace, a solace, a lonely freedom
She was just a student
He met her at a bar
They both got to talking
While he sucked on a cigar
He realized they were kindred
Having both rejected myths
She introduced him to Hitch and Dawkins
He had finally found the family he’d been looking for
They didn’t have perversions
Or crazy bronze age lies
Just a hunger for the truth
Through the scientific eye
No mass hysteria, or a blindly following herd.
Thought and questions encouraged
Challenge what the findings say
“Hey, that’s ok. It doesn’t bruise our ego.”
He lived to 85,
He saw advances he thought wouldn’t be possible in his lifetime
But those blind soldiers of the myths,
Used those tech advances to commit such heinous crimes
He often sat and wondered
Behind the veil of his gray hairs
She brings him a cup of black tea
He smiles and says, thanks dear
The soldiers of all faiths
Are wrong to force their views
This herd mentality
Will be the downfall of all humankind
They’ve crossed the line
Nothing is divine
He was my hero
He was my teacher
He was my friend
He was the one who made sure that I didn’t tow a dangerous line
That social polarization would want
He taught me to think and remain free
‘Twas the biggest gift I could receive
I can see
I can see
I am free
This is an original piece by Jose Bernardo.
2016 © Jose Bernardo All Right Reserved
Please note that the poem above is my original work and that I reserve all rights to it. If you wish to use or reprint anything from my website, please contact me first.