The Disguise of Time and Words

Musings on Chinese whispers through the centuries.

Stories
when once are told are but small,
but years are what make them legends.
Words blaze a trail across the page.
Repetition makes them immortal.

See,
how the small becomes big,
the downtrodden rise to the heights,
the lost are found
and love becomes true.
Where once there was nothing!

Names,
once new, now old,
but still repeated,
even when feats of fame associated
never were theirs.

Years,
decades,
centuries,
word of mouth.
Time adds embellishment.
Beyond all recognition stories are stretched.

Questions to ask.
If this small man,
this lost man,
this downtrodden man,
this man not in love, were to hear his story,
would he know himself?

Face to face, through the mists of time.
Staring a giant in the eye,
finding his way with ease and grace,
seeing this hero carrying the adulation of a nation,
staring a lover in the face.

Would he know himself?