My Hero - Poem by Alexander Coppedge
Let me tell, about my hero, he stripped clothes to be him, he was a writer; he had daily job in life: a paper man.
Altered personality, one bent steel, the other typed, a giant and a meek beloved: writer he's a common man.
They didn't drink liquor, smoke or curse, no drugs, or pills and musk; humble: both lives brave and true.
They to save lives, dreams and some truths, no noise heard about tasks they do: a fighter and chaser of fear.
At work, no one suspected him, behind specs, he to them humble; he was gentle and mild manner stuff.
Other leap tall buildings, him to run fast pass trains; flies beyond any aircraft; him to venture space range.
Rescue both trademark, he is known as Kent, suited as him flaming red; starless blue: all clear imprint.
If you seek a hero, you to relate, I suggest he who became him, remember Kent; his secret state.
Kent wasn't like us, dual existence, a perfect man; no mere mortal, just loyal: him Superman.
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