My own truth

I live in confusion,
My body stretched out under sun and reed bank,
The river lapping my feet and the wind lapping my unbuttoned shirt,
A girl lies with me laughing,
And her voice plays out across the cloud dotted sky,
I live in confusion, it has always been this way,
And yet I am free,
Let history judge and condemn me,
For never finding the truth,
For jumping like a minnow above the surface,
And never dipping deep,
But listen to her laugh,
Playing out across the cloud dotted sky,
And tell me I am wrong.
This is my own truth.
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5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Ina
    May 13, 2011 @ 11:45:18

    Confused but free. I really liked the poem!

    Reply

  2. Holly
    May 13, 2011 @ 16:22:39

    I’ve never seen confusion painted in this light, very cleverly done. You bring to mind the beauty of simply being.

    Reply

  3. bendedspoon
    May 14, 2011 @ 13:10:10

    enlightenment isn’t far away when somebody knows he is confused 🙂
    I can feel the river lapping in my feet — cool!

    Reply

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