Soliloquy

The story I shall tell you is one of defeat,
And of times I struggled to find my feet.
I’ve gone against all odds and met them head-on,
But when I woke up my dream was gone.
The result is shocking but it’s nothing new,
It would be so much easier if I could tell you.

The story I shall tell you is not very pretty,
And how my soul is crying for it to be set free.
All I can explain is how the pain never goes,
And of all those times I thought I’d been so close.
Life is a game but it’s unfair and mean,
It punishes those who dare to dream.

The story I shall tell you is one where mortals don’t stay,
And I will not be surprised if you do not feel this way.
My dear, let me assure you that life will be unjust,
But you can never, ever, stop- even if you must.
I will do my best to inspire you, that I will do,
It would be much more heartbreaking if I tell you.

The story I shall tell you is one of shattered hopes,
And of slipping sideways from some very high slopes.
You will be exploited for adhering to high standards,
And you will be injured with some very harsh words.
You will be pushed and prodded and bruised till you cry,
When you will be left wishing why they hadn’t let you die.

The story I shall tell you is one of heartbreak,
Which, by God, feels like death, give or take.
You will face rejection and you will feel pain,
But promise me first that you will never stay the same.
They will show you that you’re amongst the very few
But there are some things that I wish I could tell you.

The story I shall tell you will move you to tears,
It will tell you how I was forced to face my fears,
It will tell you how I was made to feel like a clown,
Entertaining people even though the circus had left town.
This story shall teach you never to ask for mercy,
You will be found, even if now you are lost at sea.

The story I shall tell you is of hard, bad men,
It is not a fable which you will read to your children.
You can bring some energy back from where it’s stored,
Pick up some things that you had always abhorred.
Those haunting, terrifying cries of “Mohul, who?”
Just one of the many things that I will never tell you.

I know you no longer want to listen to my story,
It is unusual in a world where hope is sold for free.
There will be times when despair will climb up to your bed,
But you will always have to take it out of your head.
You have to get up from the dirt and rise from the dead,
Show them how you’re the only one who meant what he said.

All I can tell you is that whatever it may cost,
At the end of the day, it won’t be a good man who lost.