I Never Had a Hero

Never had a hero, never a soul friend.
Never wanted to be someone an’ have to defend
all the faults my mentor might possess.
Lonely, I ridiculed my friends’ idol fickleness.
My new idea is escorted to the social coroner;
My heart ambles again back to my lonesome corner.
Going underground, I am small, my hope falls
They turn. My aura shrivels, erecting walls
I will never be an aborigine.
Sigh, the homestead just is not in me.
Call me fanatic, a zealot; a nut.
Yes, but I am loved, but. . .
at the price of pride and self-sufficiency?
I pray, "One friend please! To share my psyche?!
To crumble on–soaking the sweat before it dries
Dripping off my brain as it cools when I’ve cried."
I once feared I would never be satisfied,
From all hearts I would have to hide.
Never knew GI Joe, or MJ, or even Bill Gates,
Never had an idol (except self) and it was no mistake
There was no altar to lay down on until you clutched me.
With you, I can be who and all and what I want to be.