The Good Do Not Die Young

what you have heard is wrong -
the good do not die young.
they grow up much too fast
to bleed the ichor of their youth
into their graves.
the good do not die young.
they trade in grubby crayon drawings,
loose teeth,
and the soft baby skin on their knuckles
for the fare they’ll need
to cross the river styx. 
they must barter
curiosity
for understanding,
carelessness
for responsibility,
and butterfly and dragon wings
for shoulders that are broad enough
to bear the burden
that broke the back of atlas.
the good do not die young,
you see,
because to be good
is to be heart-heavy;
just as to be a saint
is to be a martyr,
as to be a hero
is to tear the world
asunder.
the good do not die young;
they grow up much too fast.