The wind stirs the pages of new beginnings,
These storys that get told untold amount of times,
Each being changed, with each telling,
So they may match the storyteller.
Why do we tell storys?
Why do people want to listen?
Well it's quiet simple really,
It's because we need them, need them to feel alive.
So I keep telling my storys, my past,
In hopes, in dreams, in faith,
That it will keep even one more person going,
One less person giving up on this precious life.
So I'll tell you not to worry, not to fear,
I'll tell you that I'm here, that I'll listen,
If it will keep your heart safe,
From the malicious ravages of life.
| I remembered my late father when I read this..how he used to say that he wanted to protect me..I can picture an elder surrounded by a bunch of kids, with a bonfire in the middle, telling tales of life, love, romance|
One thing though, 'storys' should be 'stories'
|| Posted on 2012-10-08 00:00:00 | by irrelevantme | [ Reply to This ] |