Not worth remembering
Camp half-blood: a place for Heroes.
Heroes that are selfless.
Kind.
Brave.
Caring.
Heroes that have talents.
That can steal like Hermes.
Write poems like Apollo.
Be beautiful like Aphrodite.
That are inventive like Hephaestus.
Tend gardens like Demeter.
Are wise like Athena.
Actors like Dionysus.
Not to speak of the big three:
Heroic, leaders and so unbelievably Powerful.
But what about those who aren't like that?
Who are selfish, normal, average?
The half-bloods that are forgotten.
Not worth remembering.
Because we don't count as heroes.
We haven't slain mighty monsters,
Haven't saved camp,
Didn't do anything unbelievably courageous in the war,
Just survived.
And yet, without us, the camp would have burnt down,
The war would have been won by the Titans.
Because, although we aren't recognised,
Us average half-bloods, us non-heroes-
We fight when we are needed, without the drama.
And when it's over, there is nobody that praises us,
That writes great poems about our puny roles in the war.
When one of us non-heroes dies, the shroud is burnt.
But quickly forgotten
The rest of us get on with our lives
and wait for when we are needed next.
Because we are invisible heroes.