The HeroHe had the words F*CK YOU tattooed on his arm,
and an attitude to match.
In what few social circles excepted him,
he was also known as scratch.

On the other arm, right below MOM, he bore the tattoo BORN TO RAISE HELL,
and anyone who'd met him at least once,
would have believed they'd witnessed just as well.

He'd see pretty girls and say, "Let's make love, not war,"
and all the while they were spitting in his face,
he'd felt less like a hero, and more like a homeless whore.

The ticker tape parade had vanished,
before it had even started,
and those like scratch, who'd killed for the masses,
were left to starve and be broken hearted.

He'd held out his tattred hat enough one day,
to scrape up enough scratch to get him zero,
but instead of eating, gave in defeating,
and got another tattoo that read HERO

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