My mirror
Is driving me up the wall

It's sick and tired
Of it always being about me

Pencils
  And papers
    And fancy erasers

Rubberbands
  And soda cans
    And ratty old pairs of Vans

This and that
  Or 'maybe' something
    Equaling all sorts of nothing

And then I met Winona Ryder...

Hate has no place here
So put your tongue to rest
There’s nothing you need fear
No imp upon your chest

Stop grouping them as “they“
Be true to your best creeds
Try seeing things their way
And if the Spirit leads

Try looking past their skew
And past their being trolls
Into their motives true
Into their very souls

She has chains
Around her chest
Slowly tightening
Give her rest

She’s in danger
Every day
She can’t continue to
Work this way

She’s saving lives
And skirting death
Ushers joy
Or one’s last breath

This blight has taken
A toll on her
On ALL of us
It has, for sure

But on the caregivers
So much worse
On every doctor
Every nurse

I don’t tell you oft’ enough
You’re heroic! It must be tough,
Cause each night you are tryin’ to tame me

To get me to turn an eye that’s blind
To not mention the tumbler of wine
Or the whiskey, which is near enough to slay me

Oh you tell me I am being lame
And why it’s me that is to blame
And when asked whose fault this is, you’ll say me

And while you’re spewing words of hate
You tell me I don’t appreciate
All that you do, oh darling ...can you blame me?