The little boy awkward and shy
Had a question in his eyes
To him the world was so simple
Yet so hard to comprehend
Alas he asked in quiet tones
The meaning of a mystery
Sir, he said, can you explain
Why superman is not like me?

Jesse Owens was the fastest man
Back then, I hear its now Carl Lewis
Sir, what is the colour of the skin
Of these two super men?
I hear Joe Louis was the strongest of all
And Cassius Clay some say,
Sir, what is the colour of the skin
Of these two super men?
The only men I knew to fly
Seems almost to the sky
Were Michael Jordan and his friend
Kareem Abdul Jabar
Sir, what is the colour of the skin
Of these two super men?
And I could go on to relate
The exploits of so many
Fast running, hitting, men that fly
Long jumping men, men jumping high
That look so much like me
So what’s the reason, pray, kind Sir,
Superman’s so unlike me?
The old man looked sadly
Down at him in deep commiseration
What was the meaning of the riddle
That as a child he’d pondered?
Come son I’ll tell you
What I think, though
A philosopher I’m not
But patient years and
Great remorse
Have brought me some conclusions.

Superman is in the mind,
A thing of fantasy,
And in the world of fantasy
Reality is lost, and so both you and I
My son, can create what e’re we want
In the imagination
With which all minds are blessed.
But here’s my advice to you,
Young son, when inspiration comes
Use it as a precious gift
Without ever being rude,
Not to show that you are better,
Or less, than any other
But just to share the simple truth
That you are just as good.

shame on you.