A story holds words by paper or mouth.
It carries a depth going north or south.
It travels through hearts both large and small.
It inspires the heroes both young and tall.
But how does it start? Is it simply made up?
Or was there one who never gave up?
“Every lie has a kernel of truth.”
But maybe that kernel began in one’s youth.
It began with a child on the edge of his bed.
Hearing a hero take his firm stead.
It gave him strength to believe there’s more.
It made him think he could truly soar.
He searched for the truth and found it real.
So he held it close and let it heal.
A warrior was he, a man of great strength.
A champion of truth who knew no length.
And now our children sit close on their bed.
Listening of him who held his stead.
They sit in awe of stories of old.
They can’t believe such stories could be told.
But what a story,
Could truly be true,
If such a hero,
Could truly be you?