For Every Winsome Song Craft

you and I shared heartache
under different skies,
and as you read this dumb poem,
you understand why.

I was once told I have great ears,
but that I don't hear.

I want to jump into a knife mosh pit
at a Bon Iver show. 

Throw me in a different fire, now,
come on, because we will paint changes
like the millennium doesn't matter,
and change is just a thing written about
in better poems on back balconies in Brooklyn.