Beware Those Selling Tales

 

You love to hear those tales that shine,
Of grit that grinds and bides its time,
Those sparks of hope, those shining threads,
Lead you astray, they have misled.

 

For in those tales, so warm, so bright,
That honor costs and make them right,
Those pyrrhic “wins” they celebrate,
And thousands more have untold fates.

 

Beware those tales to stay those paths,
When leaving would be better math,
Not every path is yours to end,
Oft quitting is a better friend.

 

They cheered for John who bore those years,
Who swallowed pain and silent tears.
You’ll never hear of countless more,
Who down those paths were more than whored.

 

And Mary’s climb, so long, so steep,
Those seeds she sewed she finally reaped,
Yet others climbed those selfsame hills,
And found no peace for their strong wills.

 

Beware those tales to stay those paths,
When leaving would be better math,
Not every goal is yours to win,
And loses need bring no chagrin.

 

Our minds confirm what fits those frames,
Retelling myths, “you must have fame!”
We see those few who reached those ends,
And hope those paths will be our friend.

 

We trust those tales, those rules, those calls,
And all those voices, one for all,
Yet life demands a broader view,
More than stories with praise imbued.

 

So hold those tales as anecdotes,
Not fit to serve as your lifeboats,
For stories sell but never prove,
The path is yours, it’s not behooved.

 

Beware those tales that make you stay,
When leaving could have lit your way,
Not every goal is yours to win,
And loses need bring no chagrin.