Strength

Son's Hero

Folder: 
Wulfman Adventures

All because my little Wolverine
Asked me to stick around
'cuz he wants his dad here
To be his Superman

I did it son, I was Superman
Against my demons, to conquer all
I know they will never go away
All we can do with addiction is tame

There are more victories now
Then there ever has been

When I feel weak, I remember you
When it is collapsing, I think of you
How you use to touch my face
Palms on my cheeks to give me a kiss

I am going to get my red cape
My Superman jumpsuit
To kick some ass
To make sure I keep my promise

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Character

Armour plated
Sword wielding
Grim determined
Heart beating
Friend and foe
Always leading
Is he man
Or God seething

Suited man
By clothes protected
He's the one
Best selected
Never losing
Unaffected
Fighting on
So well directed

One like either
Born to be
No conditions
Can set free
The making of
A man as he
No grasping straws
Create him thee

Patroclus in
A race to win
Was just a man
Of normal sin
He never knew
Mistake he made
To don the suit
In death he laid

What lesson learned
Too late to know
And not to be
A friend in show
But be yourself
And act no other
Even though
You be his brother

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Found Dreams

And in the realm of dreamscapes

Where water’s thick as oil

Dust coats the tongues of wanderers

Who earn a pittance for their toil

 

And a girl now twenty

Stood hanging out the wash

And with each grimy sheet she hung

She counted what was lost

 

And the gritty clapboard shanty

The one that she called home

Was empty and was hollow

She was all alone-

 

The horizon went forever

As they do only in dreams

The tears she wiped from her cheeks

Weren’t what they seemed

 

They came away as glass

She had cried priceless jewels

She gathered tears in her apron

To hide them from the fools

 

In the jewels’ reflection

She saw what was to be

Gathered up her courage

Determined to be free

 

And in the realm of dreamscapes

Where wanderers pass on by

She took hold of dreams she cried

And waved them all goodbye

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Fighter

 

I'm tired of fighting. 

Nobody asked me if I wanted to be a fighter.

I don't want to be selfish and quit.

But putting on this armor every day weighs on my body and soul.

I'm exhausted.

Just once, I want someone to help me take care of me. 

Someone to assist me in my struggles, not because I ask, but because they want to.

No judgements passed. 

Someone who will help me to remove some of this armor and put it on themselves and not fight for me, but fight with me.

Someone to help me carry the weight of my past.

With shoulders strong enough to hold the insecurities in my tears.

I can't fight anymore.

Not alone.

Bullets of reality hit my shields and deflect but always leave their mark.

A small dent or scratch.

My once new armor now looks worn.

Let me lay down my sword. 

I don't want to fight anymore. 

Let me press pause while I undress myself and stand up tall, fully exposed in front of you. 

If you would like to pick up my armor off the ground and wear it for a while and protect me, I would be forever grateful. 

But I don't expect you it. 

Although I spent so many years shielding you.

But that's who I am.

I'm a fighter. 

But nobody asked me if I wanted to be a fighter. 

So today...

I quit.

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