They don’t really listen, but are captured
They hold on fractured sentences, phrases and words
Your enthusiasm infects them with dreaming
Seeming it’s the power of the word to cheat and beat
All the apathy and lack of motivation
It all comes down to emotion and that you have
You spring to your feet, dash past
Mirrors and splashes of light cast your reflection
Someone sees you and turns to shake your hand
You laugh out your answer, not prepared to stand
Modern day preacher, wordsmith, what would you have been?
Story-teller, maker of myths, minstrel, troubadour
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