Batman. Big shot. You gave me the order to grow up, but turned me over onto the curb before my time. How petty. My fame was there, I was on top and I was great but when you realised you were no longer the hero, you let me plummet head first down the side of that transparent twinkling sky-scraper without those painted black cardboard wings you promised to lend me.
And when I fell and scraped my little knees you came, kissed my bruised forehead, lifted me in your leather-coated arms and carried me back to base.
Yes, back to base. Where I became your side-kick again. Where I sat at your knee while you planned our next move, chipping in pointless phrases here and there- "amazing, fantastic-Batman you're the best!" But I loved to hear you praise me too, y'know. I would race ahead and jump the rooftop before you, just to watch you catch up and whisper "Well done" in my ear before you smiled and sped off in front again; I could never beat you- is what you were really thinking.
Oh, and Batman, how come you got to wear the macho black cape, mask and studded boots?
When I was stuck with the Sherwood-forest-green number; because you said it looked cute. That it matched my eyes, you said. Ha! What would you know? I never liked that outfit, but you did. And wasn't that what mattered the most? When the only thing I insisted on was a mask but ended up being lumbered with a measly eye strip; that you wanted to see my face, is what you said.
Did I mention that it annoyed me when I always had to stand behind your right shoulder, whatever the situation? "I don't want you to get hurt." Was always you're answer. But I knew, Batman. The limelight always had to be yours and you couldn't stand anyone taking it from you.
Even when our enemies battered me, you couldn't bear to take me to a hospital because you didn't want the press giving me the time of day. So you nursed me yourself; patting my wounds with a soggy flannel and laying a hot water bottle across my stomach. I admit it gave me butterflies thinking you cared tenderly and was sick with worry over my recovery; but I bet that gloved hand holding my own had some other motive on its mind. How about, frustration? Anger? Regret that you should have abandoned me by before then? I mean, that was always it, wasn't it, Batman? I was a hindrance just waiting to be left behind. Despite all those sweet words of "I would be lost without you." And "I couldn't do this job without you, Robin." Meaningless, right? Meaningless like those goodnight kisses on my cheek that left tingles even when I knew it was only routine and the pats on my head or gentle squeezes round my waist. Were you always such as charmer?
Ah, but it's all in the past now, Batman. I'm not your ball-boy any longer! No more swinging about rooftops or leg-breaking jumps around the city; defeating crime! You're the criminal, Batman; you fooled me. Wasn't I always just the little pawn that you tossed about around the board?
But now, Batman, I've completely sacked those twinkling eyes that stared up at you in awe. Utterly scotched that "He is my hero" story; gone.
Robin is no more and now I don't even think to put on my ugly last season yellow tights before I slide down the banister to knock on your door in the apartment below.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Inspiration: 'Kid' by Simon Armitage. - And yes, i did write this while revising this poem for my exam XD
Please review! x..^_^..x