This poem, based on the 70th Psalm, and in the voice of Lois Lane (pining for help from Superman), was actually fun to write. It felt naughty, because it lets me vent about a bad habit of mine – looking to others for rescue. It’s a tendency we’re pressured not to acknowledge in ourselves, because it’s so trite and self-evidently self-defeating, but it’s a powerful undercurrent in the psyche, the notion that someone is just about to intervene on our behalf, if only we can hold on for one more instant… I associate this feeling with treading water, escapism, and internalized victim-blaming. But it is also a vote of confidence in someone, anyone – there is a shred of faith left in humanity there.
Someone unlikely is coming for me –
help me, for this is impossible – quick!
No one supported me – shame on my friends.
When they see for themselves they’ll lose face,
and regret having tried to hold me back.
They’ll take back their jibes and their pedantry,
the same friends who scoffed at me all along.
The world needs to know someone’s here for us,
the news will bring hope for all mankind.
Like me, they will see Clark is trying to help –
they will welcome this stranger, our savior.
And I know, in this, my hour of need,
he may come – I have hope – hurry to me!
My rescuer could free us all from fear.
I shout for help – our time is running out…