How Far Can Satire Go?

How far can satire stretch its wings,
Before it falls and bruises things?
A laugh, a jibe, a pointed word
At truths unspoken, seldom heard.
It dances close to edges, bold,
Where wounds are raw, and hearts unfold,
Mocking kings and shaking crowns,
Making bigots and snobs grow deep frowns.
But how far can it walk the line,
Between the joke and a darker sign?
Can humor cure or only wound
While exposing lies we’ve all subsumed?
In satire’s grasp, the world may bend,
It speaks of truths that may offend.
Yet in that crack, does it reveal,
A love that heals or hurts that reel?
It wades through waters deep and wide,
Where wit may go against the tide.
How far, then, can this art, this blade,
Carve the space where truths are laid?
Satire questions letting things slide,
But is there a point where we divide?
When does it cease to jest and play,
And leave us lost in shades of gray?
Perhaps the answer lies within,
The balance of the thick and thin.
How far should satire truly go?
Just far enough to make us know.