Superman No More

I’m hanging up my cape today,
my super powers gone.
Without those neat abilities,
that image can’t go on.

I’m just a simple man again,
that’s all I’ll ever be.
No better than the rest of men,
as you can plainly see.

My kids are getting older now
and I am just their dad.
A simple part of life to them.
To me that’s rather sad.

I used to be the bravest one,
so big and wise and strong,
who’d conquer every obstacle,
who’d remedy each wrong.

A superman they thought of me.
They’d look at me in awe.
I’d lift them and I’d swing them round.
They’d laugh and beg for more.

I’d tell them wondrous stories and
they listened patiently.
Now they don’t want to hang around.
They want to be set free.

I guess I must accept it now,
I’m superman no more.
Soon they will be my heroes and
I’ll gaze at them in awe.