When you’re the one who tells the story
Watch out!
Caution!
Steep slope ahead!
Sharp curve!
For in drawing out truth of a great abyss
You take off their mask without permission
And, found: crumbs their corner
Lint in their dryer
Corrosion in their engine
When you’re the one who tells the story
In an instant you’re no longer normal
Your songs melodic
But they see thunder storms
Your poetry colorful
But they see darkness
Your strides graceful
But they see crutches
Who wants to hear a story anyway?
But, something in you says you have to tell it anyway
You were born to be that one.
