I wrote a poem. I was proud of it, showed it to a friend, published it on a forum among other poets. Short story short, I was done with it. But then two days later I felt a bang against my head and heard this threatening voice “You’d better look at that poem again”! Ok, so I went back to it with the intention to rewrite it, correct it here and there, maybe crticize a little. And then I READ it!
That poem was for me.
They say that if you pay close attention to your behavior you can learn a lot about yourself. Well, I guess that applies to one’s creations as well…
The eye of truth The eye of truth Will see you through No lie will pass its by’s Denuding magni glass It overlooks all roofs The guardian of the truths Go look it in the eye For answers for your aye Trust judgements are unique The truth: c’est magnifique
As confronting as it is to me I am glad it appeared in front of my eyes.
Reaching one’s truth may be painful, terrifying, sad, lonely…And no one told me this when I took off on this creative endeavor. The truth about truth is that it is.