Inspired to society expectations and the 'what if's of heroism.

The Death of Superman

Silver cloud linings scattered
like the angry rantings of
the imaginary god that
we all submit to in the end -
they are heart-break pink
and lost-soul purple.
These are the heroes
we have taken and torn,
hand-in-hand with the suicide songs
that we're all just singing to pass the time
until we're saved.

And the horizon is dotted with
the lonely figures of trees in
autumn; their darkness
and despair tainting the picture-
perfect view of the world as we
want it. Paint it to the same tune
as the songs we sing for fun.

But, somehow, the depression
canvas comes together time
and time again into this
caricature of happiness,
the heart-deep feeling that we
are safe, despite all the signs
that we are not.
And we can all admire the
twisted workings of heaven
and wonder and wander
until we are called there;
cry and cry and cry
as the sun rises, says hello,
and tints the world rose.

Wearing our shades, we are
content. But when the world matches
the shade of our shades,
we can't hide behind our delusions
anymore. And don't we
just hate it when someone comes along
and shatters our perfect image
of black and white,
heroes and villains?

We don't want to
humanize our saviors,
we want to immortalize them.

Behind the cape, Clark Kent
just wants to get it on
with Lois Lane -
but we don't want to see that!
We want Superman to
change the world and be our savior.

But where can Superman go when it
gets to be too much?
We alienate our heroes until they're
so much greater than us - and
we can only wake up satisfied
from our dreaming schemes:
to make celebrity into god.

How does Superman watch the sunset?
Does he take off the cape and let
the depression overtake him - just
for a moment - or does he wear
it, strong forever and carved
out of the stone of society?

Three dollars says Superman
doesn't watch the sunset.
Too tired to carry on,
he can't take the depressing mix
of heart-break pink and
lost-soul purple.
Can't he just go home to Lois Lane?

We put too much pressure on
our heroes, forcing them into
the mold just a little too
long - and they crack.
Nowhere obvious, but on the
inside, Superman is broken into
a million pieces and not even
Lois Lane can fix him.

Because, somewhere, an artist
is painting the picture of
Superman martyred in front
of a sunset of heart-break pink
and lost-soul purple.