A Poet Who Spoke The Truth.
Visions blurred as laughs of the world echoed,
On to the versifier who by the street stood,
Constantly like a mindless lunatic he asked,
“Who for the wonderful cares, Who for the truthful cries?”.
The poetry in defeat drowned as all spoke,
The blabbering of the world blasted senses,
Oh’ the insanity of the masses split the mind,
Still only the truth from his soul came.
The truth about who you are and who you are not,
Dear, the validity of the perception in mind you carry,
Ah’ every bit of you pain, every bit of gladness,
Every bit of your anger, confusion oh’ all deeply felt.
The poet stood by the street and asked,
“What more to the world I can give?”
And he looked down, up and all around,
“What more to her I can say to prove the truth?”.
Then a long lost truth he remembered,
“The beauty of poetry is in the lies,
The poet from his heart recites.”,
He looked all around and smiled.
Then a little girl came by and at him in anger looked,
As she heard the last question he thought out loud,
Crossing streets holding her mom, like a boss she screamed,
“Let her learn your love and let love prove your truth”.
Took a step away as only in his soul he spoke,
The best lines of verses he ever wrote came to his soul,
All lies from his life one by one got erased,
Only some lines remained after a long walk in cold.
Unstructured lines that never rhymed in his soul embedded.
Oh’ those lines spoke the love for each other of two souls,
The spiritual love that never materialized in the web of world,
From where he ran but her mind confused about the truth,
Truth a poet can speak even when the verses he writes,
In those verses ah’ not the versification that took beauty,
But a reality into the world like a morning sun, projected,
Beauty of her soul from far felt but through verses he spread.
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