You can’t fly, see X-ray or shoot laser beams,
You feel broken, abandoned and incomplete it seems,
The carbon is not quite the dazzling diamond that reflects and beams.
But you were cut from another rock,
This gem isn’t lack-lustre,
Power through, for you can muster
To find the source of light
That ignites a fire from within,
And burns even bright.

No you are no boy wonder in blue
No wonder you are always so blue
Holding this torch of virtuous morality,
Living the life of accredited banality.
It’s okay to venture out of his shadow;
To peak at new skies and fallows
To run amuck with frenzied emotions,
It is okay to be shallow.

‘You are Superboy and I love Superman’ I say
I try to find his heart in your gaze,
Spitting image you may be so,
Is it wrong to love your face?
You came with a mission to destroy this earth,
Dark and twisted, you were fated for this birth,
You walked away to a way,
Up and away, far away,
You chose to see the light of life,
Then why can’t I see you in a different light?

You are not his shadow or reflection
You are not a reason for pain or affliction,
Your face is a constant reminder of a missed chance
It’s fine, the moment’s passed in a trance,
Find your vision and pride,
Live for yourself and provide
Yourself with the love that you never received,
Perhaps one day you will have some for me?

It’s always a question mark when it comes to you and me
Cause you are oh so black and blue
Don’t have a clue
Of your intentions or our future
Yes I know you know that I love Superman;
It’s not a rite of passage to turn from a boy to a man;
You are you and he is himself,
You are like nobody else
Just be true to yourself.

“But I do know one thing though
*******, they come, they go
Saturday through Sunday, Monday
Monday through Sunday, yo
Maybe I'll love you one day
Maybe we'll someday grow
'Til then just sit your drunk *** on that ******' runway, **.
But I can’t be your Superman.”

My hands are numb, my body rigid, my breath as cold as ice
Your glance burns through me like heat vision, oh God! It feels so nice
Your touch can bring me to the ground, puts the high flying to a stop
I'm sweating all over, my stomach disagreeing, I'm jittery like a prop
You smile, with a slight tilt of the head, a punch to my flailing might
I'm Superman, the Kryptonian and you are my Kryptonite.

I'm no superman...

A friend of the Man of Steel,
Lois Lane was full of questions
about identity and the way Niagara Falls,
which Clark Kent was poorly denying.

The life of this reporter
was then full of punch-ups
and helicopter rides gone awry;
strange musings in her head
and fancy flights in the sky;
vacations consumed climbing the Eiffel Tower
and making love in an odd
fluffy bean bag bed.

But she loved the smokes so much more,
she ****** those coffin nails
faster than a speeding bullet.
More powerful than a locomotive,
she puffed away, leaving
Superman’s love in the ashtray.

Our poor hero's heart might have ached
but he still could leap
tall buildings in a single bound.
Lois, on the other hand, was a chainsmoker
and her teeth always brown.

It doesn't take x-ray vision to see
this chimney sweep was
no prize or pageant beauty.
And dare it be said, in true hindsight,
she was even worse for him than Kryptonite.