The woodwinds creak into the air.

I don’t belong here.

I don’t belong.

I’ve been a ghost everywhere,

and flesh and blood where it’s the worst.

I’ve been everything halfway.

But nothing to the end.

A lover, a fighter, a father, a friend.

I wait in patient hallways.

My dreams wrapped up in a book.

I’ll use them someday.

I’ll use them someway.

I’ll use them now.