Perhaps if I were taller
Standing out more so in a stagnant crowd
Even as PENN DOT lines during a crooked July
Or with deep sweet swallows of pride able to drink in the clouds

Or if I could sing and lull with just my eyes  
If I were mean or kind
Or less drunk with proud
Or loud about if I could bench well over my own weight in pounds

Maybe if I cared more, or cried often sometimes
Or didn’t have the willpower to step aside
And stop fixing things for the millionth time

Maybe then, and if
I looked more like him through your eyes
Then maybe I’d be more or less, motivated to try