The Man I Might Have Been Poem by John Yaws

To be the man I might have been..
Ah, wistful is the thought...
The maiden's hand I did not win,
The wars I have not fought.

The canvas now unpainted-
Heroic deeds not done-
And epic tales and odes of old
That never shall be sung.

The path I left untrodden...
The conquests left unmade...
A legacy of failure left-
Which all too soon will fade.

The best which I can hope for
Ere from this life I part..
Is that my words, might touch and cheer
Another forlorn heart.

Perhaps some youth, unscarred by time
Shall catch a vision bright...
And mount and seek the Holy Grail..
Unlike this would-be Knight.

Perhaps, unsullied, she still waits-
Perhaps the silent drums
And fifes will thrill, and pipes shall shrill
When that youth finally comes,