The misty memory as I walked through his house.
I felt such sadness, such pain.
I remember the pillars, cold and white.
Like bars of a prison from LIFE Magazine.

Pillars like those at the Temple of  Diana.
King Solomon’s Temple not one of pain.
Grace was the land.
Back in the day

He sang of a lil’ boy in the ghetto.
He sang of suspicious minds.

Not one, no one knows who, the what or where.
So many are Waiting for Superman
Waiting for Superman.

I tell you something!
Here and now…

These shoes, my ol’ shoes have wings!
I spied him near here.
So many are Waiting for Superman, they think he can.

Oh these shoes are worn,
them here shoes of mine they are now worn and torn.
Take these ol’ shoes!!
please walk in them for a moment.
Feel the strength feel their power!

Ha!

These shoes, my ol’ shoes have wings!
Wings to fly high!
On steps I take unseen.
I wear my old winged shoes.

Ha!

©2011 ~ Z