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We have come
to treat truth
as an oxymoron,
a con game.
.
Our cynicism
bubbles like
something toxic
we pass around;
.
a disease
we don’t want,
but believe
is inherent, genetic.
.
We’ve given in,
no longer trying
to rub it away
with ointments
.
of geniality, or
poultices of politeness.
It’s past time
to flush it out
.
- our system.
Yet, we don’t trust
the medicine;
only the ailment.
About the Creator
Randy Baker
Poet, author, essayist.
My Vocal "Top Stories":
* The Breakers Motel * 7 * Holding On * Til Death Do Us Part
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Comments (4)
Great job all the way through. Really stuck the landing
Thank you for sharing this thought-provoking and introspective piece that sheds light on the challenging state of our perception of truth, thank you very much for sharing, love your works, hope to read more, subscribed.
So clever and absolutely rings true!
Such truth to this. Great poem!