MY HERO, SIX FEET BELOW

There I sat, laughing and playing with my toys, Prior to the demise of my hero. Cluelessly, I acted like the child I was, Oblivious to the grief that surrounded me. I saw them grieve, but I thought it was just something normal. I saw tears roll down his cheeks, Which was unusual because he was our rock No pain, no fears, just a man. But there he was, weeping, Like he wasn’t the great man I so much adored. Little did I know, Great men have weaknesses too. As I grew, the realization didn’t just hit me. It came piece by piece A sudden event, a place, a thing, a drama, a love. I felt an ache, But still couldn’t comprehend the knock That dealt my household a cold blow decades back. As I gradually grew, the memories became pale, But the emotions grew stronger. The pain, the absence I felt They all felt new. It wasn’t that I was unaware That something had happened some decade ago; I was simply numb. I grew up thinking there would be a surprise from Santa, With my hero right beside him. Or maybe, just maybe, A consistent prayer life would bring back What that knock had taken away. (Hahahaha.) I guess it was just one of those wishes That go up to the sky without an answer. Growing up, I felt the ache over and over again. I probably can’t say I miss you, Even though I am still growing In a certain fantasy that this is all just a dream. Still hoping, Maybe, just maybe, I could restart from that day You said your last goodbye. My hero, six feet below.