like a key
that’s
broken off
in
the door
words
of
truth
unlock
nothing
when
ignorance
turns
the key
truth
nostradamus note # 15…
when you hear the words
i’m too old to lie to you
you’ve just heard a lie
nostradamus note #8…
fools renounce the truth
ignoring social justice
their own death sentence
nostradamus note #7…
those who seek the truth
will only find the gravesite
of its true martyrs
spring #7…
the flowers
never broke through
the ground
the thick layer
of mulch
like
years of lies
covered
every part
of
the garden
it would appear
the one entrusted
to plant
the bulbs of truth
had failed
the bulbs
still lie
on a dusty shelf
in
the shed
no reason to go beyond thought…
still
see your face
and
hear your laughter
as a child
but
years of lies
have
erased
those traces
of
memories
from your mind
so
no need to speak
nor
dream that truth
will ever be seen
it’s so strange
how
alibis
replace reality
and
life’s bar room liars
become
heroines
temporary sanity…
facing other’s deaths
forces us to face our own
however briefly
before we close our eyes tight
and enter life’s dream again
