Jean

You should've turned thirty this year
You should've been pursuing an art career
You would've made a great civil engineer
You could've won championship rings
You could've stuck with the drums, I'd sing
You could've been so many things

They let a brilliant mind like yours
Waste away behind a locked door
Two and a half weeks
Four walls
And a cold concrete floor
And you spoke three languages
But there's no talking your way out of this
I know I wouldn't have lasted as long as you did

I haven't
Been in the same room
Since I was twenty-three
I always
Thought I'd see you
Again eventually

And the last time we spoke
I was chasing you down for money you owed
I don't have a rhyme for this
I'm just ashamed
Too broke to fly to the service
Never seen the plot you're buried in
But I think about you every day

And I haven't
Been in the same room
Since I was twenty-three
And I always
Thought I'd see you
Again eventually

Like something
On TV
Catch up like old friends
Over coffee
But sometimes
There's no cut scenes
Or resolutions
Just endings