By Jasper Milne, Contributor
You’re pristine and perfect,
Your eyes aglow and not a hair out of place,
Comfortable and composed.
I’m touchy and irrational,
Lame but manic at the best of times
Compared to you.
Yet you found me fascinating for a few months,
Until I fell out of your niche,
And the flames flared before my eyes.
I was just too hot to handle, you said.
You couldn’t see that I was broken.
Or maybe you didn’t care.
Nevertheless, life goes on
And the crowds smile for you yet again,
The applause deafening in my ears.
You’re beautiful up there,
In front of that adoring audience,
Dazzling in your concerto dress.
I’m the one in the back, holding the tambourine.