When I was younger…
I pretended that I could fly.
Soaring through the skies,
gazing down at a world
as big as my imagination.
I pretended to control minds—
force my brother and sister
to do all the chores
while I sat back watching cartoons.
I pretended that I had super strength.
Like Superman or The Hulk,
I could crush my grandma’s Ford Escort
because it was an ugly green.
I pretended to speak with the animals
and learn about all their adventures.
Not fish, though, because I hated water,
and being like Aquaman just seemed lame.
I pretended I could turn invisible
just so I could torment my friends
and my mom and teachers
and bullies that just plain deserved it.
I pretended to race with uncanny speed.
I’d sprint faster than Quicksilver or Flash
around the bases in the backyard,
hoping not to hurl after 100 runs.
Safe to say I’ve lost my super powers.
They’ve faded alongside my youth.
The powers of adult life are no match
for the boundless virtues of youth.
I want to relive that mythic life,
to get into the mind of that kid
with the side part and fat cheeks
and find the fuel of that inspiration.
I want those powers taken away
by that Kryptonite called adulthood.
I want to raise my arms and soar
without boundaries or fears.
I want the energy to conquer the bad guys,
the spirit to change the entire world
with the flair of a caped crusader
and a mask hiding my mundane identity.
Perhaps the true superheroes of today
don’t wear colorful spandex costumes.
They’re dressed like you and me
and do everything to let young minds soar.