based on the song by Bruce Cockburn
Maybe the poet is old,
But they won't do as they're told
Maybe the poet is young
But her words you should not shun,
Maybe the poet is free
Are you blind and do not see?
Maybe the poet's a Slave
But those white flags won't be waved!
Maybe the poet is saved
Maybe the poet's a knave
But he'll shout unto the grave!
Black or white, or coffee brown
His words will stay... they'll stick around
Tan or beige, russet red
You will recall what's been said
It will play all through your head
She will speak until she's she's dead!
Maybe the poet is rich
And is sitting by a beach
Maybe the poet is poor
But her words you'll hear for sure
Maybe ill with no cure
Though she's dead she will endure
Homeless woman, wealthy man
They won't do as you have planned
They won't play on with the band
They'll be strong and take a stand
They'll holler til you understand!
They won't have a TV show
Won't be on your radio
But the word of mouth will go
Be it fast or be it slow
They may be killed, they may be shot
They will speak TRUTH!
THEY CAN'T BE BOUGHT!
Ignominy may be their lot
*But they will produce some thought!*
Maybe the voice of The Spirit
In which case you'd better hear it!
You may not touch it. Can't get near it.
Please don't expect applause
Don't find rejection odd...
For it is the Words of God.
SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/16/2016