daddy does the stage tricks

and mommy reads the fortune,

sissy likes to fly,

loves dancing with the moon.

auntie speaks to animals,

uncle chats with ghosts,

while I sit here and listen

as they give each other toasts.

for daddy, sleight-of-hand

is cheating through and through;

he claims he does real magic

when he saws his guests in two.

for mommy, good fortunes

are worse than a white lie;

she claims the cards are props,

something for customers to deny.

for sissy, trampolines

are for handicapped swallows;

her feet so light, she claims, for flight,

and bones completely hollow.

daddy does the stage tricks

and mommy reads her tarot,

sissy likes to fly,

air instead of marrow.

auntie speaks to animals,

uncle chats with ghosts,

I wander off to be alone,

while they sit there and gloat.

for auntie, talking to them,

is more body language than voice;

she claims she just listens,

and talking back is their choice.

for uncle, seers and seances

are just a load of bull;

he claims they're talking constantly,

the airwaves always full.

for me, I'm nothing special,

I've got zilch up my sleeves,

listening gets me nothing,

except them bragging in between.

daddy does the stage tricks

and mommy has a crystal ball,

sissy likes to fly,

and I just seem to fall.

auntie listens to animals,

uncle communes with the dead,

I left them to their boasting,

and they didn't hear my tread.

for me, sure, I walk quietly,

but that's just a learned skill;

it's not a gift or anything,

not bending sound waves to my will.

for me, sure, I get forgotten,

but I don't actually disappear;

my family's too busy showing off

to see me when I'm there.

daddy searches his boxes,

while mommy checks her hands,

sissy looks outside,

all without a plan.

auntie asks the spiders,

uncle questions the gods,

but they can't seem to find me,

they won't open their eyes and see me...

I'm just sitting, beating the odds.