I found these three poems that I wrote back in 2010 and thought I might as well share them.
If I put tights upon my legs,
A sheet hooked to my back with pegs,
Some undies on the outside,
And a sense of community pride,
A great big symbol emblazoned on my chest,
And a great desire to be the best.
Is there any chance I could grow?
And become your superhero.
Cause I might have global aspirations,
To get some deserved congratulations.
I could save a house from fire,
But your thanks are what I truly desire.
My costume would get me fame and admiration,
But nothing would give as much elation,
As if I removed my mask and showed my face,
And let all I built go to waste.
And then maybe you would realise,
The man they all called Steel Eyes,
Was only ever trying to,
Be a superhero for you.
Return of the Fox
The fox sure was a splendiferous foe,
The greatest rival I ever did know.
Fox was aware from wake to rest,
There was no other who claimed to be best.
Fox ruled the domain with resounding power,
Calling out commands all others did cower.
Until one day things suddenly did change,
Fox was not Fox, Fox was strange.
A mind once filled with thoughts of control,
Had apparently gone out for a stroll.
With a stumble and a fall Fox did go,
From the top of the stock to way down below.
I undoubtedly wanted to see Fox fighting fit,
My foe had lost unremarkable wit.
Thus I became the leader of the pack,
And kept one eye out protecting my back.
Fox disappeared from our location,
But was never far from our contemplation.
Over time we grew used to Fox’s absence,
Not knowing of how great our distance.
One day unsuspecting Fox did return,
Without vigor fox was no concern.
Yet somehow towards the top fox rose,
And slowly the great mind unfroze.
I fought all the time to keep fox down,
But fox surpassed me with previous renown.
And it was said from that day on,
The rise and fall was all just a con.
The Shadow of White
Shadow is not dark, shadow is light,
When the sun goes down it has no fight,
From whence he came the shadow did go,
To a place that to us was simply unknown,
For the evening the shadow did reside,
Away from us but still by our side.
His world was but different to ours,
But one that existed for only short hours,
Though in that world it wasn’t the same,
Life was not work it was all but a game,
Where they played for a prize,
That would see them break ties,
With the world of their making,
And take the place that is theirs for the taking.
Thus entering the world at night,
And becoming a shadow of the light.
There was never a winner before,
Until it was that my shadow was born,
He was as dutifully gifted as me,
And conquered the game of shadows did he,
So into the world of ours did he come,
And I was left as the shadow less one,
No-one did notice and cry out in fright,
As I had known to stay out of the light.
What happened while my shadow was free,
Was knowledge unknown to me,
For what does a shadow do when,
It is free from its enslaving pen?
It is not dark but it is light,
And we must not query the shadow of white.