Why do you look up to me, with my tattered constitution?

The holes in my armor show weakness here not a mind for solution.

I have not the strength to defend the world from the evil lurking there.

I have very little tolerance for breathing their fouling air.

The hero’s heart does not beat in my breast, with the strength of a hundred souls

I do not stand proud with a warriors yell when the mighty thunder rolls.

I look to my fortress when they come to confront and enforce their mighty status

I hide behind the shields of the meek when deadly volley soar at us

I’m not the warrior that others see when trouble comes to life

I don’t have the stomach to handle the battles full of strife

I don’t have the strength of a hundred men ready to seize the day

I seek the obscure and solitude and there in the shadows stay

How do the common decide who is worthy of a hero’s name?

What elevates the man who encloses his life to that certain level of fame? 

For I am just a man you see with no answers to banish the bad

I only know how to go through this life as friend, husband, and dad