Sometimes we do not hear because the words hurt

There was a voice in the evening
it carried across the land
the sound was that of a woman
telling all that she'd make a stand

A crying out of the darkness
a soft gentle voice
I stood near so I could hear
the works as she gently cried

I love to sing pretty music
but the sound it just comes out hard
my intention is to calm the nation
with words written by the bard

I love to tell tales of grandeur
I love to report on mankind
I live to sing of the beauty
but deft ears are all I find

Those who question my motive
those who plan my days
those who live in sunshine
but miss all of the rainy day rays

Some day in the future
my words will float cross the land
the joy and hope of the musical notes
will allow all man to understand
It’s the words not the voice of the man