Ode to Bruce and Clark
by JD DeHart

I was Bruce Wayne
on the rooftop. And even
sometimes the Joker.

I was Clark Kent, alien
in a land where everyone
else seemed comfortable.

My glasses were fake
and I was always ready to
reveal my true identity.

I dreamed of flying like
Superman until I was old enough
to be afraid of heights.

I learned that you don’t always
land on your feet when you fall
from a rooftop.

All of that is fine, I lament sometimes,
but still work on stitching my costume,
planning my grand entrance.

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