Sometimes I pretend I'm like the man with intrinsic spider powers, Or the one like a bat, Maybe the man of steel, Other times like a woman of wonder. But if truth be told, I feel like Quasimodo, Derelict, despised, scorned at the rise of the sun every morning, Lost in the light, Like a hundred of those loved And a thousand of those hated. I am fortune, and I am forlorn. I am something at the end of day, and nothing tomorrow, So when I meet the expectations of love burned at the stake of my body, I'll clench the dross dripping from the gold of my soul. In one fine second I'll breathe my last breath, To become the dust blowing in the wind of the air you breathe. I'll be the love you never knew, The gold you walk upon, And the air you can't live without. © 2022 Loly Rinn Photo by Christopher Campbell on Unsplash
Undone superhero
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