It's kind of like the truth
wrapped up around some lies;
like the sadness only
found in long good-byes.
It's devotion to a star
that isn't in your sky;
like having no excuse
for needing an alibi.
Interpret this way;
or is it like the sunrise;
changes every day.
It is kind of like a war cry
or a peaceful protest in the park;
like a horseback ride
on a blinded stallion in the dark.
It will stab you in its light
like a flame eager to expand,
like a jagged shadow in the night;
a cryptic dagger in its hand.
It's like a secret that no one has ever heard;
the chirping of a single bird, bird, bird.
A whisper only spoken by the wind,
like a breath from deep within.
Jody Pratt
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