I didn’t ask for this so called gift I have
At least not that I remember
And I don’t really want to use it
It inflames hearts like it were, to the fire, tinder
It makes me seem much too direct
Making my words feel like a dagger
Under this burden, that I must carry
So often I stumble and stagger
But the truth, it must need be said!
And the truth it must prevail!
Somehow I’m compelled to follow this line
Even when i know my words will fail
So if by chance a tender heart
Will catch wind of what I said
And feel the pain of what it means
Perhaps even be filled with dread
Please understand that it comes to you
With naught but pure intention
And a hope that you can see all I do
And not just hear the words I mention
But dare you call this thing I carry
A calling, a blessing or a gift?
Don’t you know how many times
It’s caused nothing but a rift?
To have to speak the truth inside
when, really, I only want to uplift
It may be the truth, but if you would
Please don’t call it my “gift”
