Oh Mama,
I've seen your dreams for me.
You dream in me a perfect girl.
The brightest in a crowd
And the prettiest bride
That anyone's ever seen.

Mama, you liken me to a songbird,
Little and melodious
And hidden unless performing.
I know you want for me the things
Your girlhood was bereft of.
So I understand you precisely.

But Mama, I'm a cicada.
I don't croon for an...