Popsicle sticks and bitter tears–
that’s the way (my dears, o my dears)
if you want to build a hero.
Ravenous things and wild boys,
salt and silver bullets for toys–
all can be borne if together.
But birds with wings will want to fly
(all but the blind look to the sky);
one can’t stay, the other can’t go.
Brother, soldier, scholar–or knife:
cut yourself open on this life
so sharp it’s light as a feather.