Total Loss

It's just a matter of time, but it matters.

So many miles you wouldn't know my wear pattern

Have passed under my radar and under my tread.

I aspired to leap; oft, I boiled instead.

All the cells in the boy who let you die are dead.

That idealist made by self-interest myopic

Has been wholly replaced by this consummate cynic,

So that, were I given a post-college try,

I suspect that you'd prob'ly still die.

All hail the new guy, same as the old guy.