“someday i want to be a superhero,

like the ones i see on tv, on the big screen,”

a young boy tells me

someone who ought to be remembered

one of the giants upon whom humanity stands on,

a strong man with great power

who’ll save everyone he can

i suppose that kind of ideal person was what he meant

“that’s where you were wrong,” i reply

thinking that power comes from sheer strength alone?

that it can manifest wholly in one individual?

i tell him, “the true heroes are the little ones

who collectively carry the weight of the world on their backs

who don no cape nor hold superhuman powers”

they’re simply clothed in the working man’s attire

you have to realize that you aren’t the big hero nor the giant

you’re simply one of the little ones and will remain to be

but it doesn’t mean that there’s no hope

power is rooted in your numbers

you, as well as all of the little ones out there

by using your collective voice to change and do what needs to be done

the people above, in time, will realize that they are nothing without us propping them up

i continue, “we are minuscule, merely a speck”

barely leaving an imprint upon the winding course of our history, our existence

because of this fact, one can feel and act without remorse

knowing that individual actions will not change the world

these words sound bleak

but still, i find solace in them

“you, young boy, have to come to terms with our insignificance as an individual

and rejoice in being part of the multitude”