Before studying Batman
I was never wholly at ease
With rationally conceding
That the best thing to do
Was to have to walk away
It was a bizarre form
Of misappropriated
Psychic perfectionism
And I wore some cape
Like an insular jacket
To weather the storm
Of the waiting's time
It took for a single voice
To run the obstacle course
Of all Life’s random tragedy
Like a spunky detective
On the case of Blurred
Words as CSI forensics,
But there was danger,
For Joker’s were made
Without a costume,
There was no divide
And this I thought
Was truly a reality
But little did I know,
That Bruce Wayne
Dressed up like a bat
And ran his gauntlet,
Which was what it was:
Obstacles externalized.
Getting too precise
With someone else’s
Ways and means of Self
Was not understanding,
It was begetting more wait.
It was just being Robin:
Volunteering to
First sing at dawn
As well as get shot at.
But can we only do the best we can,
Hopefully better than yesterday
And I don’t know why?