DOWN DIFFERENT STREETS.

So your story was slow to unfold,
And you were glad for the end and repentance,
Though in truth if the tale had been told
Without bowing or being too defensive
You’d have had nothing to fear from its mention.

Though sufficiently more than required
Was suffused with gratuitous silence,
But unlike the dull guilt of the quiet
Who assume their own act as compliance,
Your deeds were akin to defiance.

Your foot was quite awkward with forward,
Though once moved it propelled you along
With commitment to more than a prologue,
And a flair for adventure and song
That ended with more than it had when begun.

So stand up and bow down correctly,
In receipt of our well earned applause,
For you life is a light for the unsighted lie
That believes toil alone is just cause,
And not the last gasp of the forced.