What if I read to the audience a story,

Starting “Once upon a time”.

And when they realize it’s their life,

Spelt out on every line,

Would they hear my voice with enchantment,

As each word brushed across snow-capped mountains and olive trees,

Where black ravens are watery ink on wet paper.

Would it make the world view life differently?

And would it shock them most to find,

The things that they thought defined them,

Could be summed up by two lines?

And all the ones the world took for for granted,

The ins and outs of every day.

Play a bigger part in an identity of the world,

Then we’d ever dare to say.

Would the earth seemingly ponder at the pages binded by string,

Like the stringy life everyone seems to lead.

Shall it take us to places unseen?

One that we are proud to read.

Yet there is a story about everyone’s life,

And you are one of them who holds the pen.

And I wish you fill those colourful pages right,

Before you reach the end.