It's Not Easy To Be Me.

It's Not Easy To Be Me. , Five For Fighting I can't stand to fly I'm not that naive I'm just out to find The better part of me I'm more than a bird: I'm more than a plane More than some pretty face beside a train It's not easy to be me Wish that I could cry Fall upon my knees Find a way to lie About a home I'll never see It may sound absurd: but don't be naive Even Heroes have the right to bleed I may be disturbed: but won't you concede Even Heroes have the right to dream It's not easy to be me Up, up and away: away from me It's all right: You can all sleep sound tonight I'm not crazy: or anything: I can't stand to fly I'm not that naive Men weren't meant to ride With clouds between their knees I'm only a man in a silly red sheet Digging for kryptonite on this one way street Only a man in a funny red sheet Looking for special things inside of me It's not easy to be me. In no way do I believe I'm comparable to a superhero still the encouraging words from so many make it sound like I'm something special. This is hard to stomach when my eyes see the core of my heart which exposes an ugliness that is rarely revealed. I'm thankful, grateful and touched by the words and most cause tears. I don't know how to be me. Just months ago my independence was not in question and I though nothing of the things I did on a daily bases. Today my daily activities are dependent on others, my schedule is not my own and independence looks like getting my own drink out of my dorm refrigerator. It's not easy to be me. It's not easy to be you. What is it like to be you? To look at me, the once independent person, rely on you for everything. To wait on me from dawn to dusk. To have our fun and adventure days altered to something more subdue; something with less zeal. My ability to adapt is slow, what about for you who deal with me and my loss of independence? I assume the ability for you to adapt is equally challenging. I have no idea what it's like to be you and my mind wanders to feelings of guilt, pity and sorrow. I think about it often enough and I don't know who has it worse: me, or you. So who's the strong one? Who's the real superhero? Not me. The ones deserving the praise, the real superheros is everyone who's done even one of the countless, endless acts of service.