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The Truth
The pinnacle of creation walks through the hallways
With a smile clear as crystals
It is telescopically clear that she defines friendship
She leaves people clear of fear of ridicule
And turns all myriads of beads of tears
into the intolerable magnificence of ecstatic comfort
The pure pleasure of her words thaws hearts
She is like the wind waving the branches
the gentle breeze guiding the branches to safety
Silently, she leaves in a state of flight
And un-noticed, she escapes to be alone
With reluctance, the mask of dazzling uncertainty falls
She has had to scrape and saw
out of each pit society has dug her
She is the sun, she has strained herself
All she does is give and give
Feelings brush under the rug like dirt
A great disappointment in her eyes
Haunting like the work of an evil child
The truth is dry, desolate, and dangerous
The truth is that her fear is sharp as lightning
The truth is that it is dangerous waters
The truth is that she is sinking
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This is a Found poem based off "Travels with Charley' by John Steinbeck and "A Toast to the Oldest Inhabitant: The Weather of New England" by Mark Twain. I used pieces of both of their writing and wove them into my poem. This poem is about the mask that people hind behind, and how the truth is revealed when it falls off.