I used to have heroes,
Idols to provide inspiration.
Black and white beacons bursting forth
In triumphant celebratory technicolour
Fireworks. And words of wisdom
Tripping from acid tongues, trailing
Sadness wherever they went.
Not the laughter and joy they peddled
All their lives, just a performance.
Now my heroes haunt me.
© 2015 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.