a nonconformist’s tale

I’m sorry, i didn’t write, the words you chose

and some days i may have elected to doze

but you would see if you came close

that i wasn’t merely dreaming.

Yes, in the clouds, might be my head

but there were armies to be led

i’ve had revelations

i’ve been through revolutions –

songs to sing, mountains to climb, monsters to slay

you see? i was building a story

and that’s my story to tell.

I may not write the words you choose

the roads you clear, them i may lose

but that don’t mean i have no use

for i have my story to tell.

In your rhythm, i may not dance

some things i like to leave to chance

but that’s okay

‘coz it's true, you see?

not all those who wander, are lost

and I’ll gladly forge my own path

and illuminate dark tunnels that come my way

and that’s how I’ll tell my story.

You may find errors in your dictations

------ the lines i draw, may sway from the margins

and that may make you lose your patience

but that’s okay

‘coz my soul soars higher than your accolades

and my spirit yearns for wings, not just rollerblades

so how do you contain a beating heart that’s free?

you can’t. you just…let it be.

and that’s okay.

It was always MY story to tell.