The Little Superman

It was a momentary stage
He went through,
Cute while it lasted.
Maybe he had watched
A little too much television,
Seen one to many
Super hero shows,
Or possibly his imagination
Had not yet been stifled
By reality’s imposition.
The moment his mother
Dressed him
In that suit and cape,
He became Superman.
He pictured himself
Leaping tall buildings
In a single bound,
Being faster than
A speeding bullet,
And more powerful
Than a locomotive.
He flew around the house
For several days
Fighting invisible villains,
Being that capped crusader,
But once he tired
Of playing a super hero,
He refused
To wear the outfit again.