I am not a crook.
I didn’t do it.
Whatever the hell it is.
You’ve given person of interest a suspicious connotation
Darling, we just met
Don’t put me at the scene of the crime just yet

I am not two-faced.
We have yet to make dent in anything substantial
Though, I speak in metaphors
Don’t mistake them for riddles you need to solve before your precious Gotham is robbed again

Your eyes are like cell blocks in Arkham.
You don’t realize the insanity in your focus.
Hiding your delusion behind makeup like a cowl
Disguising it in the daytime with a millionaire’s lifestyle
But to the rest of the civilians,
Trying to be near you is hopeless.

You built your foundation on so much darkness
You find solace there.
Darkness resides beneath superficial wealth.
But who saves those who needs to save themselves?

What do you do when you need help?
You don’t even have enough trust to employ a Robin.
Guess the last Dick gracing the underground cave between your hips was barely worthy of kicking it on the side.
And when he got sick of not being a full-time partner
He spread his wings and disappeared at night
You can relate, right?

There is no gadget on your utility belt
That isn’t crafted from your own insecurity.
You throw your pain at your adversaries like a Bat-a-rang
But it always returns to your hand
You drop accusations like smoke bombs
To see if I’ll cough and be distracted
Wishing you were gone.

But I am not the Joker
My smile isn’t hiding maniacal schemes
The chill in your spine is me warming what was freezing
My strength is not the bane of your existence
I am a good guy.
Not necessarily a hero
But not the villain you’re trying to make me become either, so.

Stop worrying about crime and
Put down the costume.
The city is safe
For now
Turn off the Batsignal.