The Hero Of My Childhood Poem by Alexander Romanov

The hero of my childhood dreams,
Defender against all evil schemes.
But now he's grown, and won't let go
Of the wheels that carry him to and fro.

The hero of my youthful tales,
Saved the earth and never failed.
But who is he now? A drunken mess,
Struggling just to enter his own address.

Believe me, I have checked and tried,
My hero won't come walking on the tide.
His feet are worn and full of holes,
The hero of my brightest goals.

He doesn't write, he doesn't call,
My hero, who once stood so tall.
Taking more than giving back,
His humor sour, a soul turned black.

No matter what I try to do,
My hero's now someone new.
So please, don't call him by his name,
For the hero of my dreams is not the same.