A Promise is A Promise

He just wasn't big enough.
He didn't fit the mold he made for himself,
or maybe, I wasn't big enough to keep his secret.

Music guided his heart and he was the King
but with stork like limbs and standing four seven
he painted a picture of maverick.

He stood there, center stage,
his guitar as big as his stature.
The image, the clothes only dressed this oddity.

Then it happened. A single snicker echoed
then rumbled into a grand chorus.
The vanes in my temple pulsed to its rhythm.

Damned that promise! He deserved so much more.
Over the noise, hushing the roar, the clear notes
of the Hawaiian Wedding Song drew me back to center stage.

Expanded as made of rubber, filled out as an overstuffed manikin,
the image of the king in his glory
stood this child of wonderment and pride,
his voice the clarity of Gabriel's own son.

The King indeed.
He has silenced the need for exposure.