Your name was as it sounded-a candle in the dark,to guide me through the tunnelsplaying melodies of larks.Rejected from fine Julliard,you swayed as you played Bach,when they offered you a golden seatshould you flourish with the flock.They felt that you were talented,but must step into place,when they noted that your movementswere preventing you from grace.But…
Category: growth
Mr. Why
There once lived a boy by the last name of Why who never asked questions or thought. Without man’s permission to guide his ambition, he only retorted with ‘ought’. When sitting in class, he would look to the board to see what the teacher would draw. But in holding his pencil, Why happened to…
