A Lack of Understanding

21st April, 1919.

'Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half-light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.'

~ W.B. Yeats

...

Don't worry, I'm not the kind to make wild proclamations and then take them back like they didn't mean a thing to me.

Trust me.

I know how hard it is for you, it's your family, your whole world.

And what can a man like me ever offer you?

A pen?

Because that and my voice is about all I'll ever possess .

If I were a poet, I would write you sonnets offering you the oceans and the stars.

But I'm not a poet, I'm a politician. And all politicians ever gave anyone is false hope and lies.

So I give you a pen. And you can wonder why there is no ink.

Because why write in ink when you can just write in my blood?

J.