January

My hero came without a cape,
with hands worn from what he'd make,
with what should've been in his chest
on his sleeve.
My hero came with the grandest smile,
with teeth safe from style,
with a chin up after all its trials
no matter what.
My hero came with eyes
that don't save room for lies,
that would look at your eyes
any time.
My hero came when my father should have,
getting up from being pigeonholed and grabbed at
because he didn't have the time for that.
No one should.
My hero took all the scars,
knowing they'd never match all the stars,
of which he tied a hope to each,
despite being so far.
My hero left the malice meant for his heart
knowing if he took it he would never start
pulling out the pain in the shapes of the shards
that went to rip him to pieces.