My childhood is dead.

It exists in my head.

Not a hair remains,

Except in my brain.

My heroes are gone

There are few I can look to

The ones that are left

I just never took to

It might be because

Our leaders are killers

And can’t abide good people

So instead, they just kill them.

Most people don’t realize 

That it works this way.

But I have to live with it

Every day.