08. Looking Up

I got the call to pay my regards

Before my stomping grounds

Are turned to rummage yard

Up those wooden stairs, I marched

Through all those darkened doors

Betwixt too familiar art

I breached into the attic scene

And caught a mouthful of dust

(Which covered everything)

And within rows of towering

Cardboard tombs I found

All these different versions of "me"

Don't tell me so

All these frames were left in shadow

Don't tell me so

I can't imagine those eyes closed

Am I wasting your time?

By being inelegant?

By veering off road?

Am I wasting your time?

By being inanimate?

By being a ghost?

I suddenly became entranced

By internal elegy

For those wasted plans

The stream rushed swiftly past

And I begged to float away

But you can never truly turn back

As I looked at the capsulized list

Of scattered artifacts

I had to admit

After every hand that's ticked

There are some things that I still miss

Don't tell me so

There's no light on in the window

Don't tell me so

There's so many years that

I'll never know again

I am wasting your time

By being a counterfeit

By looking below

I am wasting your time

By being inadequate

By being disposed