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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1556843
my dad's my hero. he's my superman. he has heart disease.
A day that will live in infamy.

Forever a fate so determined
to question every day; will there be a next
trying to forsee the future; our eyes welded shut
helplessness turns into hopelessness
as the door around the corner closes; tightly
our minds flutter about; trying to erase such imagery
what a curse we shall live.

Nothing gets better, as days go by
the air inside us, beats slower
a pounding within; so hard to bare
forever we will lay to rest
gone away as if never there.

To the ones around, what will happen
but the breaking of their own hearts; the tears that hide within
thinking, hoping; wishing
but all for nothing; to stand up for what has fallen
down and around, we go and go
in a circle we love to call life.

A crack in the sidewalk, we fall within
hoping to hide what we refuse to believe
that one day it's there; and then not
and no matter how hard we try; it's gone.

The hardest thing in life; never hard to explain
that without a hero, we'll all live in shame
whether a bond is there or always broken
I say this to superman, you have given me your token.
Whether today is the day, or five years from now
you have shown me so much, and to that I say wow.

A hero stands alone only when he feels there is nothing left to be proven.
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