You forgot your lines or missed your mark
    or maybe gave me that look you have that
    infuriates me. It drags my angry little boy
    from so long ago into the present moment.

    I sit locked outside the house, no one home,
    crying at noon, mom off giving birth again,
    another piece of her pie smaller for us all.
    Dad comes home and drives me back to school.

    Quiet on the set, and Take 2: We are perfect.
    My little boy still pouting in back of my mind.
    He's patient. He'll wait until the after party
    when the ***** oils the skids for his finale.