Perfect page
Blank and dead
What beauty comes from
Nothing to be read?
Same old lyrics
In my head
Done and dull and dumb.

Where's that town
Where we were born?
That satin dress
You've never worn?
The red rose
Ended up a thorn
Sharp and shamed and stained.

While we're at it,
Let's pretend
That I have got
A third hand to lend
And broken bones
Don't need to mend
Frail and faint and fair.

Don't even raise
A finger to fight -
Let's just give it
One more night
You're sure things
Will turn out right
Lies and lies and lies.

Maybe I'll sing
How sweet the sound
On the day that I am
Finally found
But for now
I've got nothing to say
Except the words I've been saying for the last hundred days.
So goodbye
and goodnight.
Maybe I will see the light.
But I am not alright.

I am not Superman.