Super.

My superhuman abilities were a blessing and a curse

For although in place to protect me, they often did quite the reverse

Faster than a speeding bullet and more powerful than a locomotive

Who was going to save Superman when he lost the will to continue floating.

Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound yet matters of the heart tore me apart like kryptonite

Unsure if I could go on with emotions coursing through my veins electrifying me like dynamite

It was easier to be unfeeling, numb to man's nuances and moods

Life was less revealing, when I was thought of as crude

Grief stricken without a spell or potion to ease the pain

Sadness engulfed the superhuman, casting a shadow cloud of sorrow on my Herculean frame

With a brave face on, I returned to fight crimes and matters not of the heart

Renewed confidence and faith in myself as I crossed my heart and hoped to be stronger and not so easily torn apart

Invincible again, no magic needed to know I will not surrender to defeat

The road to recovery was lined with obstacles that kept me from becoming obsolete

Shapeshifting past of mine, I often chose to hide rather than stand out and be misunderstood

It took me long enough to accept the subjective nature of bad and good

Still soaring high above the skies saving everybody else from crime

Even the ability to heal oneself and flight can grow old after some time

Desperate for a cure or even someone to lean on for a helping hand

A friend, or an ally that will see me as an equal and not as Superman

So what if I have powers that make me slightly different from the rest

I still yearn to find someone with whom I can watch the sun rise in the west

When will I meet my own personal Lois Lane?

That will treat me with love and respect, and stimulate my brain?