I finally bothered to walk into my old time capsule I call a glory room.
The brown wooden walls were filled with
Picture frames
Newspaper clippings
Trophies
Old weapons
And other objects that have accumulated over an era time I held most dear.
It was a more simple time
A time of men performing great feats
And great moral grounds.
While most historians and younger people will look back at this age and reveal dark secrets, flaws, and social conflicts they made it seem as if it was a time of racial and sexual prejudice.
They look into the era of my youth
And find darkness
When really I keep looking back at my past
And it only gets brighter with every glimpse.
But the future for me
Just seems to be getting darker.
That’s because I’m old and dying.
All I really have
Are memories to cling to.
We were the great champions of our time we’ve went into the depths of the earth’s core to fight creatures that scared the sold out of you.
We fought foes that were twice as evil and menacing as America’s foes at the time.
We had technology and power that would have shaken the very nature of reality.
We were the champions of the golden age.
In a time of great depression and social turmoil
We rose to the occasion.
To help defend the common-man.
Some of us possessed the strength of Heracles and Samson.
Some of us were the gods of science creating technology and turning simple
Aspects of life into magnificent spectacles of mankind.
Others studied the dark arts, practiced spells and knew the secrets of the underworld.
Others used their cunning deductive skills to help those in need, and knew “what darkness lied in the hearts of men.”
They were the champions.
And while I wish I could say I was one of them
I was merely the observer and recorder who made sure their stories were known.
I tried to be one of them.
Women and children were excluded from their ranks.
We were only observers of their incredible feats.
Until they all disappeared.
It was a simpler time when we knew who the good guys and bad guys were.
Now we don’t know who to point the guns at.
So they all gave-up.
Now they only exist in the cluttered dusty small mildew-smelling closet
That is my collection room.