My Hero

I’ve never met him before
Nor will we meet now
But I watch

As he sits in his wheeled chair
alone by the wall, trembling
One uncontrollable motion after another

I know he is someone’s family and friend
I’m certain his life was fulfilling and exemplary

Yet all I can think Is, I’d rather die gloriously
Than sitting in a chair, being watched
By someone hoping to never be me

And if I had the courage to meet him
I’d apologize
For being wrong

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