To be a different bird—that’s what I love. I’ve always been the one they didn’t want to hand the microphone to, the one with a little too much spirit for the crowd. Looking back many moons ago, here’s a true story: when I worked at the aluminum plant on the last day of my ninety-day probation, they gave me the worst puller they had—numb

"The Warning"by Roy DawsonI told them not to do it. I said it as plain as the morning sun cutting through a dirty window. No poetry. No flair. Just truth in its simplest, hardest form. The kind of truth that doesn't need decoration because it's been earned—paid for in scars and sleepless nights.But they did it anyway.They always do.They hear the