The missing aren’t missing,
They are merely hiding
In the form of children
And lonely lovers
And grocery shoppers.
The Men that can fix our world
Have beating hearts
Have eyes that give birth to young tears,
Have lives that aren’t perfect,
But too many times
We take the peasant princes for granted
And we turn to mirages
Of knights in illusive armour.
The real heroes
Are with us in our daily lives.
Not in a castle far away.
People that Love
Are the only ones that can fix us
But it gets hard to keep meditating
Long after the mantra has died out.
Long after the innocent are gone.