Words. They are my forte,
With them I can make works of art.
And what's best, I don't have to look a certain part.
With words, I can form an empire,
I could topple nations, even form a wildfire.

I was never good with speaking,
Always tripped up, got tongue-tied,
Words are like acid, making the world tie-dye.
And I'm the addict, just sitting there tweaking.

And I know, it probably doesn't sound good.
But if it's all the same to you,
Who decides what's good?
Me? Everyone else? No, it's whoever likes it. It may not be you.
So let me ask, what's your forte?

I was in the jungle, laying down,
My brothers looking down at me.
When you took your first steps.
I was far away.

I was smoking in the desert,
My brothers, sleeping near me.
When you first went to school.
I was far away.

I was pulling my friend out of a fire,
Only to be caught there myself.
When you graduated with all your friends.
I was far away.

I am lying in a ditch,
In the desert once again.
As you start a family I will never see.
I am far away.