sparks that lit the night for awhile.
He's thrown his cape,
surrendered his powers,
deprived from the burden
he carried for years.
For once, people can't afford to refuse a parachute.
Gone are his assurances, there's too much to lose.
People on the streets might not realize,
scummy Clark is now astray,
getting high on Kryptonite every single day.
I sympathize at his free fall.
He used to be present at the curtain calls.
Perhaps he's tired of constantly being used.
And decided to show people what it's like being silently abused.
We are left to stand by our own degree,
one that reminds us that saviour is history.
The phone booth is isolated lately.
"Because sometimes being special sucks." - William Schuester