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A Fictional Tale |
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They are giving me a medal,
In recognition of my deeds,
They say a lot more people would have died,
If it hadn’t been for me.
And they’re calling me a hero,
But won’t listen to what I say,
When I tell them they’re mistaken,
For it did not happen that way.
I did not tackle a gunman,
The way that they insist,
I did not risk my life to save my friends,
What did happen was this.
When the gunman started shooting,
I was frozen to the spot,
Trembling with terror,
Convinced that I’d be shot.
And I begged him not to shoot me,
Pleading for my life,
But he just seemed to look right through me,
And pulled the trigger twice.
The first bullet whistled past me,
Inches from my head,
And hit a man behind me,
Who instantly fell dead.
The second shot he fired,
Came closer than the first,
It grazed my skull and bled so much,
It made the minor wound look worse.
So I lay there on the carpet,
Pretending I was dead,
The gunman didn’t even notice,
He just stood staring straight ahead.
Like he was high on drugs or something,
Or in some kind of trance,
Shuffling like a zombie,
As he made his slow advance.
Towards my friends and colleagues,
Shooting everyone in sight,
Till he was standing right beside me,
When not from courage, but from fright.
My foot shot out and tripped him,
And he fell right by my side,
We struggled for his pistol,
As the rest just stood there, petrified.
Waiting for the outcome,
Too afraid to move,
When the pistol we were struggling for,
Suddenly went BOOM!
And the gunman slumped across me,
Bleeding from the chest,
I pushed him off and shakingly,
Stood to join the rest.
They’re the one that told the police,
What a hero I had been,
Exaggerating every single,
Thing that they had seen.
My parents heard about it,
And believed it from the start,
I tried, I really did,
But how could I break their hearts.
So here I am, awaiting,
The medal I’ll receive,
Everyone, my friends as well,
Call me hero, would you believe,
But I don’t feel like a hero,
No not one little bit,
In fact to be quite honest,
I feel more like a hypocrite.
By S.E.Ralph
14-3-2018
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Reviews of "Medal"
New Poetry by Steve E Ralph
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He Was Weird
by Michael LeFevre
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My second book is about a boy who has Asperger's Syndrome and is bullied to the point to where he shoots up his school. I have divided the excerpts from it into three parts: Before, during and after the shooting. |
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Breaking Out
by Bob Brink
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A teenage boy struggling with the coming-of-age issues of sexuality, religion, and peer approval is overwhelmed, but soldiers on. After several years, he comes to understand the family forces that have left him so deeply troubled, and the process of |
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Ron
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