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I'm a record
repeating all the same lines
hoping that you'll continue to sing along.
I'm a door unhinged
waiting for you to walk my way again.

You're a Gothic masterpiece;
a renaissance of imperfection
spilling over a lifeless canvass.
I sit with a pen
still in my hand.

I can't expect you to hear my every call,
I can't expect that you'll fix the threads that come undone.

If these words are my voice,
then this page is God's ear.
A prayer for what is broken
to be mended once more.
I want to do something,
not for you,
something for me,
something gleaming with everlasting renown.

Throughout this fraction of life,
I have grazed this objective
like a lover's fingers
tracing the profound edge's
of the starving artist's spine;
I have tasted that moment of completion
but only in the smallest dose,
like that last drop
that collects around the bottle's rim.

I cannot say this life has been mediocre,
but I yearn for the exceptional.
I'm tired of seeing lesser fools
idolized by fools more talented than them.
I'm tired of the chorus,
let me write a new verse.

And though the greatest agony I bear
is that I may never reach that fabled nirvana,
I hold close the dreams
that make believers out of fools like me.
By fear or by love,
you've got me frozen,
stuck
in perpetual awe
and I don't know
whether I should fight
or I should fly -

My darling,
you've clipped my wings.
I am with you wherever you go. I
cannot be seen by anyone but you. I am
only around when you are weak - I am
the reason you must be strong. I am
familiar to those around you. I am uninvited,
but I have the key.
I come to life as the light is siphoned from your eyes. I am
anti-social and I hide away. I am
selfish - I want you to myself. I am
bleak when you have hope, I am
the reality piercing through your fantasy. I am
that bitter taste of regret as you swallow your pride. I am
the refilled prescription, I am
the angst against filling it. I am
the quiet in an open crowd. I am
the noise in your seclusion. I am
everything that you see no matter how far you go to escape.
I am your hopes and dreams - in the open for everyone to witness -
bursting into flames,
and you're forced to sit and watch.
I am the presence behind you waiting for you to fall.
No matter where you are,
I am with you wherever you go.
Superheroes inspire us all,
superheroes make us marvel.
Superheroes are adored
from Beijing to Washington D.C.

But superheroes don't wear capes,
they wear a '96 Olympic shirt
and loose-fitting pants
you would never catch me in.

They don't have x-ray vision,
they've worn glasses
for as long as you remember.
They cannot fly,
and yet they seem larger than life.

They never seem to lie,
and they still say "I love you"
in the exact same way
almost sixty years after they bound it to eternity.

They don't have super-strength,
but they are your super strength
and they lift you up
until you can do it on your own.

They seem invincible,
but life has a way of reminding you
that even Superman has Kryptonite.

They are stubbornly steady
even when the bill of health
isn't clean.
Just as they are your strength,
you feel your aching mortality
when you find out
even superheroes get cancer.

Yet somehow,
after their greatest battle is fought,
there they are in all that remains
spreading an unyielding light
upon whoever sees them soaring by.


We wear an "S", a bat,
or even a spider
to pretend that we are our heroes
and emulate their image;
but I won't wear that old shirt,
or those terrible, worn-in jeans.
Instead,
I'll harness that unbreakable spirit,
and maybe one day
I'll be a superhero too.
I love you Papa.
I never knew I was filled with a light
Until the darkness became my home
A dawning day in the black of night
Where pain and regret and fear call home

But I made a choice to react with love
Not following the path the darkness led
A gift that is given from up above
Creating new life where once was death

Because there is freedom in the fall
When your fears are realized
Creating love from the chaos of it all
The choice was mine to decide

Light of day and dark of night
Together they both play a part
In my heart, there’s a shining light
Illuminating beauty in the dark
I was born with love, from my poet's heart
From his thoughts, he gathered my parts

I couldn't bring him praise, for his shining words
Silent without glory, I was left unheard
This is my tribute to all those poems which had beautiful words inscribed in them but they still failed to reach many of the readers it should have.
I know many of the poets in here could know for what I was trying to say in this short poem of mine.
I can feel, the poem too feels bad for it!
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