The Heroine

It’s no joke, not hyperbole to say
she’s saved my life before
that she pulled me away from death

Now she stands in the path of her own train
transfixed by its headlights
unable, unwilling to move

They tell me she has to just kick that train away,
to kick a train off its tracks
with legs barely strong enough to walk

But what would you do, if she were your sister?
What if she meant that much to you?
If you knew you couldn’t push, pull, drag her
from its undeniable path?
If the only options were to clutch her
and be crushed with her, to be ruined,
or to watch?
would you scream for her to run, futilely?
would you turn away?
would you even have a choice?

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