I didn't know that
this is how you see-
how you feel
how you do
how you survive...

Unaware of the fight
waging silently in your guts
or the marks of the years
upon your wrists,
like the partial rings of a tree.

I have the ears of a listener
The rules of a King
but still, all your words often fall deaf
on my nodding head-
What kind of guide, am I then?

I give you license and praise
to mark the stone
bearing mind that I feel false,
in my own direction-
a fault of my own.