When I was young, I believed in knights in shining armour. Men who would put their lives on the line in order to protect and defend that which they loved.
They would be bold and handsome.
With a lion heart, they’d go to faraway lands and fight dragons and save princesses.
These knights would valiantly oppose injustice putting their own life on the line to rescue the oppressed.
And if they didn’t die, they would come home heroes.
I believed such men were the stuff found in fairy tales.
But I was wrong. They exist among us.
In senior homes, hospitals, retirement villages.
Or younger heroes struggling for normalcy after nightmares.
And most today are wearing red poppies on their lapels and medals on their breasts.