i left home a child
     and came back to trumpeting heralds
                              and parades in my name 
                              and historybooks with my face on the front cover––
     a hero. 
 
i left home a child
     and came back a hero
     but no one seems to see that a hero is a warrior
     and a warrior must first be born of war.
 
and i see too many children
        chasing after my footprints with joy
        wearing armour like blankets and helmets like crowns
        laughing with eyes bright as the faraway glint of sniper scopes.
 
and i do not want to leave a legacy
     of bloodstains and bruised knuckles
     and teeth clenched around burning bullets.
 
and i do not want anyone else
to leave home a child
     and come back a hero
tasting blood on every passing wind
and regret on every shaking breath.
 
but i left home a child
     and came back a hero
     and only a hero––
 
––not the historian who writes the legends
     or the god who writes the stars 
and i do not have it in me
to stop the next warrior
     who leaves home a child
          and comes back a hero.