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No Heroic Honor

I thought of myself to be
Bad, bold and rebelliously free.
My best friend and I
Proclaimed Anti-establishment
Untill we die!

Then day after a long history class
Of learning about the holocoust,
With all of the pain of Hilters reign
Still freash in our brains.

We were all together,
Waiting on the bus.
Speaking about what the history lesson,
Means to us. My friend asked,
"As for what we learned in class,
did we learn hate? Are we being trained to hate?"
The other one of us said
"Hitler was evil, I'm glad he's dead."
Another said "hating Hitler is normal."

Then my friend said "I thought
Forgiveness is what Jesus taught.
I for one forgive Hitler."
Then there was the pause,
followed by the long hush,
as everyone looked at him wide eyed
as though he had cussed.

Then with what he'd said
Still hanging in his throat.
The first to cast his vote
was the I hate Hiter kid.
"How can you forgive him after all he did?!!
How can you sympathize when you
know for a fact about all the innocent lives he attacked?!!"

My poor friend tried his best to plead his case. Yet his reasoning seemed way too late. He looked helplessly into my eyes,causing me to remeber we're the rebels against the multitudes, our attitudes as he stood alone beside me,
that we were the last of the free thinkers in society.
I felt the weight of pressure as he looked at me the others did too.
What could I do?
Whisper I kinda agree in his ear?
Maybe a real hero could have handled
that situation with no fear,
I sold out to the majority who ostracized him all year.

We didn't speak anymore,
Not a single phone call,
I read the horrible, ugly things
Written about him on the bathroom wall
and I couldn't walk down the hall
without seeing the shocker of Hitler Lover in bold captial letters on his locker.
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Submitted on April 23, 2011

1:41 min read

Planet Ji Claim this poet

I am a self made thought complex, for I am a figment of my own imagination. A poetic mystery who loves enigma, I am the boldly quiet listener, My world is a broken puzzle, and my poetry is the missing pieces. By day I am the Philosophical Wonderer, By night the voice of a journeys, long road ahead. I am poet, deep down to the core. more…

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