You were my hero once.
I loved you unconditionally.
Never flawed -- just bright.
I didn't understand what was wrong,
That I was being cheated.
My life wasn't what you told me it was.
I was different, but not special.

I knew you.
Every inch, every breath, every glance.
I admired you.
Sat and watched.
I was your number one fan.

Your smile saved me.
So did your kiss.
Trapped by your arms I could never be happier.
Holding your hand -- flying above the clouds.

But this is just another sad poem I am writing while crying because of you.
I wonder how many of those I have...
What type of hero does that?
What type of hero hurts the good people?
I thought you stood for justice -- fairness.
But really the only fairness you practiced was making sure there was enough of your love to fairly go around to everyone.
Cause like I realized Hero,
I'm different, but not special.