I don’t want to be a super no more

I don’t want the strength of ten men, the sight of an eagle

I don’t want the ability to leap tall buildings

I do not have the desire to be so strong

So adaptable, so metamorphic

That I have no need for love

To summon a storm upon a whim

To become invisible, to read your mind

To block bullets with bracelets is well, good and fine

But where’s my Louie Lane? Where’s my Murray Jane?

The lasers in my eyes just mask the tears that come frequently

The force field blocks them from knowing my true identity

And that my Kryptonite is


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