Eleven

I went up to him

Thanked him,

Said I wanted

To be like him

Admired him

His faith

And he knew

I knew

That it wasn’t true

He wasn’t a saint

Not even close

He was broken

I was breaking

And I desperately needed

To know a great great man

If there was any hope

Of me becoming one

So I made him up

Made him up and down

Jesusesque

And he couldn’t

Even play along

For two minutes

As I stammered

In earnest humility

Trying so hard

To honor him

A stand-in

His embarrassed grin

Called, “Bullcrap!”

Correctly

That fraud

Wouldn’t fraud

And so I felt

Really foolish

Standing there

And I thought

Is there such?