being comfortable poems

There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
Is that why you refuse to budge?
Is that why you refuse to change?

There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
Is that why you keep me caged?
I won’t fly my dear
For I too find comfort in old ways
I am caged
Without a cage
From stone age

There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
I will not steal you words
I will not steal your sword
I will speak if spoken to
If not I will hide my words in the blues

There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
You feed me stale stories
Day after day
Month after month
Year after year
And I thrive
If you suddenly change the stories
I will not survive

There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
I keep singing
Songs of freedom
For days
And you clap
A thunderous applause
By one man audience
Is what I am used to
I will be lost if not for you

There’s comfort
In old tales
And old ways
I taste the sunrays
Everyday
Burning my tongue
Little by little
The day the taste changes or the day the tongue burns
Will be the end of times
And the rhymes