Sometimes a simple truth is sacrificed;
abandoned; let go, as surplus to need.
For utility’s sake it’s cut and spliced;
modified; stripped from its seminal seed.
.
Sometimes, too, a simple truth is buried;
covered by layers of expedience,
overgrown, entombed in a myriad
of facts; for folioed convenience.
.
And sometimes, simple truth is set aside.
It’s rendered small enough to ridicule;
belittled; nothingness personified;
significance reduced to minuscule.
.
When by design - we’re too clever by half,
who is it … who is it, has the last laugh?
© Tim Grace, (WS-Sonnet 66: line 11)
4 May 2011 (Revised: 14 December 2022)
About the Creator
Tim Grace
A first impression has a lasting effect - it makes a notable difference. In a subtle way that’s who I am as a poet. A ‘first impression’ looking for the gentle ‘twist’ that draws attention to a novel observation.
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