|Andy Thomas - American Storytellers|
“As is a tale, so is life: not how long it is,
but how good it is, is what matters.” ― Seneca
Don't ask me how I came this way
All down the rolling years
Don't hold me to my stories
My memory's not clear.
Like any other creature
Sentient or otherwise
Our stories are revisions
We tell each other lies.
In our autobiographs
We are, of course, the heroes
We wear the capes and save the days
We're Senecas, not Neroes.
So blind to what's reality
We assign to all some meaning.
And sadly substitute for honesty
Fiction, fraud and preening.
To come clean upon your knees
Is easy, confession shared with Him above
But quite another thing to tell it straight
To people that you love