i would make a terrible secret agent i'm not cool under fire i can't shoot i can't drive i don't drink and if a superspy supermodel whispered in my ear the next thing out of my mouth would not be a clever one liner more likely it would be embarrassed stammering and staring at my shoes i would make a terrible president every time i would need to be all statesmen-like and brilliant there would be pictures of me picking my nose if the planet was attacked and one man stood between humanity and desolation, and the one man was me then unless the aliens were susceptible to death by laughing too much as i stood there trying to look scary we'd all be doomed i can't throw the last second touchdown pass crack the secret code seconds before the bomb explodes decipher the hidden writing, solving the ancient mystery write a hit song on the back of a menu fly the spaceship sideways through that impossibly thin passage plan the perfect crime dance on the ceiling or even dance at all there's no prize for this moment of honesty no tender moment when i think i have lost it all the minor chords turn major and unexpected sunbeams find me there is only and endless list the imaginary people that i am not, all the exact right person in the exact right moment where the one they they have is the one thing the universe needs, and me placed here by god in a specific time and place which doesn't need me at all