The Truth

This shows my scares of all that ales,
Contains the myths and fairytales,
Reveals my tread on broken glass,
Shows tears and fears that all surpass.

The want for love and future plans,
Shows just how great are life’s demands,
But in this world of broken dreams,
Should show that nothings what it seems.

So plans will change from old to new,
As Gods torment we all go through,
But in this world, at points we sit,
Feeling sure we’ve strived enough of it.

It seems that in this fractured mold,
We’re deemed to do just as we’re told,
This fractured mold of Gods great gift,
The worlds weight we are all forced to lift.

Not one is special nor one is true,
Not one will lift your weight for you,
So in this world of selfish wealth,
We must all learn to lift ones self.

To lift ones self, it can be done,
But everyone sometimes needs someone,
At certain times to shed their tear,
Containing each and every fear.

So myths and tales from times of pass,
Be lost within that hourglass,
For now I see that all is clear,
And I am not alone in here.

I see the truth that nothings true,
I see captive souls and mental flu,
I see in this world of timed surpass,
That we all walk on broken glass.

Alec Brown © 2003