I am told the world lies,
None mean what they say;
And, if, perhaps, they do,
The truth changes, every day.
The love they speak of fades;
The vows they make all break;
The hope they give tarnishes;
Yet, it all was never meant to be… fake.
And I wish I could deceive
The ones I love and hate;
I wish I could erase promises,
Like cleaning chalk from slate.
But I can’t. I mean every word.
I can’t bother to deal in lies.
My truth is all I have living,
Without it, this character dies.
The mornings have never made sense:
The sun comes up and the world spins around,
The stars grow light, the light grows dense,
The moon turns her face, moving underground.
There’s no reason why I am here:
Perhaps it’s not so just to understand
I’m just an atom on this sphere,
Made from water and very little land.
Knowing why this sphere spins in space,
Dances around the sun and doesn’t ignite,
Isn’t required for the human race
And this question doesn’t manifest our fight.
The one who wakes when the sun dies,
Oughtn’t to ask such questions anyway.
There isn’t need to unmask sad lives –
Leave them to this balmy torture of May.
Hearts Still Care 