I was uptown, with a guitar latched onto my body,
and a microphone ready to be eaten up front.
There was much to see,
a crowd with different personalities,
and you passed by somehow.
I sang my tune,
I had the same voice I used to sing you to sleep,
but you still mistook me for a stranger.
You looked away.
What a better situation it would have been
if I was an insect,
so you’d pay attention, even just a little.
But I don’t sing through phone calls anymore,
and I stand a little taller than you.
I now have various melodies,
some of them play your notes too.
But I know my worth,
I’m not a goddamn insect.
I can fly higher than that.