Saturday, January 18, 2014

Nothing But



Was that the light? I saw the truth for just a moment there,
and it seemed so close I reached to it, though wholly unaware
just which truth was facing off with me, who's truth was near my touch;
was it truth as in empirical? Or truth as in one's crutch.

It's no matter, as I grasped it all the lights went out again
and the lack of truth so shocked me that I lost my specimen.
So the truth is out there roaming, and I've none to call my own.
Now I wonder if there's any truth in any truth I've known.

Oh I know you have an excess, I remember what you've said,
that you have the truth to give me if I'd only clear my head.
But it scares me that you have so much and I have none at all;
if I loaned some would you not collapse? Or suffer truth withdrawal?

It's not easy in this darkness, it's no cake walk in this jail;
as without the truth to guide me I am guaranteed to fail.
But I know the truth is out there, and I'll find it one fine day.
I just hope it looks a little like the truth that's on display.

It would be an awful moment if my truth was too adverse,
if it smacked of opposition it would make life all the worse;
as I know our truths must mingle if we'll ever get along.
Every person gets defensive when they're told their truths are wrong.

It's so quiet in the darkness, but it's safer than the light,
as without a truth to offer, I'm a buddy not a blight.
So I've promised if my truth seems odd, I'll say it's not been found
as one truthless is more loveable, than true, yet tightly wound.

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