The following poem is inspired by the lyrics of Waving Through A Window from Dear Evan Hansen:

I’ve learned to slam on the brake before I even turn the key.

To make sure the brake is working, of course.

Which it rarely does. I’ve got an old car.

I like my old car, but it doesn’t fit in the modern parking lots.

There’s no space for me anymore.

I tried getting a new car to

Give them no reason to stare.

I’m always on the outside, trying to fit in.

Will I ever be able to move past what I’ve always been?

I keep tap, tap, tapping on the glass

Separating me from today.

I’m waving through a window

While I’m watching people pass.

I used to be the person

Old people watched pass.

We start with stars in our eyes.

But we never believe that we belong.

I’m falling in a forest

And there’s nobody around.

Did I ever really crash, or even make a sound?

I heard the sound loud and clear,

But if no one else did, did I disappear?

Did I even make a sound? It’s like I never made a sound.

Will I ever make a sound?

Can anybody see?

Is anybody waving back at me?

What are movies but activations of our psyche? What are muffins but unfrosted cupcakes occasionally with blueberries inside?