My best days are in shadow
the oars are folded and my sea bag
lies with spiders in the hall.
Why did I want to be a hero?
On days bright with promise
the water was so blue
the future was ahead of us
we watched as the sun hit the prow.
My best days are behind me now
the boxes and ropes that coil
are all that is left from my adventure.
Why did I want to be a hero?
