“Is this wrong?”
They ask me.

“Play your song” they tell me.

They sing along, beside me.

But do they know,
Honesty is painful.

Good people become blameful…
the proud are disdainful…
Right men are shown shameful…

“Is this wrong?”
They ask me,
wanting no reply.

“Play your song!”
They tell me,
wanting answers why.

They sing along, beside me.
Not missing a word.

But if they knew,
what pain was…
Why do they try to get hurt?

“Is this wrong?”
They ask rhetorically.
I’ve said the answer much too much.
They still want me to sing.

“Play your song” they order,
so impatiently.

They sing along, beside me.
But the meaning is missing.

Do they know,
honesty is painful?
Do they know their hurting me,
but the spirit is sustainable.
So I keep going…

If they knew what my words meant,
it would make them would want to hide.
My songs are about them,
who they are inside.

“Is this wrong?”
They ask me.
I say yes.

“Play your song”
they tell me
“we don’t care”

They sing along, beside me.

But do they know what was truly wrong,
is that no one hears the music,
behind the song.