You may say—your hero!
that great
and maybe
quiet and musclebound
protector—
of your scrawny but amazing
little stack
of personal
freedoms—was never
born, but made;
but remember
now
how? after a while—
all of your
freedoms became
constraints—those skinny piles
toppled fast
and killed
your old back—kind of like
how—begotten
or made—every actual-
ized
hero dies someday.