Superman

In dimly lit corners of bars 
I could usually be found
those days were a haze 
of drowning memories 
and useless bruised fists

he sat with a beautiful woman
wearing a Superman t-shirt
wasn't much to look at
on the short side too
being bullied by two drunk fools
sitting across him
calling his friend names 
and cracking lewd jokes

he stood up to defend her
got beer thrown at him for the effort
they were bigger, meaner
whilst they dragged him out back
I watched, I followed
I did love a good fight
my motives weren't pure
I only wanted to hurt

in that alley
I was a only a witness 
to poetic violence 
from an unassuming man
his Superman t-shirt untouched 
while two lay on the ground bloodied
nodding to me, without a hint of pride
he walked away-- he was never the underdog
be careful who you pick a fight with
the little voice inside my head. 

©Lost