Poetry

1 truth and countless lies: a poem

Happy Monday, lovely readers!

Today, I wanted to share with you a poem I wrote a couple of nights ago. It’s been a long time since I last wrote a poem, but this one felt right and true. When I first started it, I didn’t mean for it to be one. I just opened up my Notepad, to just jot down my thoughts but somehow this poem was the result.

When there is truth in a lie
And lies within the truth
How do you know where lies end 
and truth begins? 


Truth is meant to be singular
But yet everyone seems to hold a different piece
Does truth then multiply? 
Or does truth then become the lie? 


How do you know what to believe?
In a world where even God has many faces
So much opinions, not enough questions
Too many absolutes, when in fact it’s a spectrum


Lies lies lies lies lies
Lies truth lies lies lies
This is what it looks like
But is there one person to blame? 
Seems everything’s a mind game. 


Why do we have to take sides? 
Why can’t we side with peace, 
With freedom, 
With prosperity,
With Life, with Liberty, with Pursuit of Happiness? 


The truth masquerading as a lie
Lies masquerading as the truth
Mask on, mask off
After all, don’t we have to do both? 


Wishful thinking it might be
A hope, a reverie
Can’t we all work together? 
Between two, does one have to be better? 


That’s the problem, isn’t it? 
We all want to be right. 
But for that to happen
Someone has to be wrong
Then, alas, we have to fight
To prove where “right” belongs
Oh God forbid, we are both wrong! 


Shame on me, shame on you
Shame on you, shame on me
We both care about the order
But does it really matter? 
When we can just solve it together?


I’m exhausted, overwhelmed
Of the attacks and the defenses
Friends and foes beyond the fences. 
What are we attacking and defending? 
I thought we stand for the same flag. 
I thought we stood for the same ending. 


There is war, there is strife
Between family and friends
Between a husband and a wife
Arguments leading to dead ends


Fatal weapons fired
Words and bullets and sharp edges
Don’t you ever get tired? 
Rip van Winkle, don’t you want to sleep for ages? 


Here’s the difficulty, you see
There’s 1 truth 
And countless lies
But the truth… what could it be? 

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