I played an expensive conversation
with someone half dead.
Looked in the mirror
anf thought about what they said.

“I feel like a waste of breath,
when I disappear 
and there’s nothing left
Remember me,
 Digest my words, 
mans leave something to sing for the birds”

The mirror cracked
I wish I could be like my dad
and write a song,
but I can’t micromanage 
like my mom.