I remember as a kid
On the way to visit my sister
Speech cue card moved by the wind
The direction with which I headed
Picked one up
And it read self-hate in it worst deranged ways

Curious I picked another one up
Since there were a number of them
Like seeds meant to be planted
Whose roots ought to reap self-esteems
Bound to break
Read it
The riddle
Was the same
With a bit of twist
In it was my hero
Whoever it was that had written those cards
They’d also written and thwarted my hero’s name