The Truth of the Urban Dandy

My name is Truth

I have stood since time’s beginning

Outside the hearts of man

Waiting for the invitation

a few will let me in

 

I am searched for by the flawed, the weak, written about by the poor

For only in humility

Can I enter through your door

 

Yet I can free you from delusions, false hope and empty dreams

From the world’s chicanery

All its crazy schemes

 

I am the small voice in the wilderness

A whisper in the breeze

be still, quiet, listen

For with me comes liberty…

 

© Mark Bolton

 

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France 2018, photo by Tom

RAT

I won’t be herded

Only to be murdered

By the feudal rules

Bootprints on my head

Leaving me for dead

 

Could turn any man to drink!

To stop the over-think

Of swimming against the tide

Universal truths denied

 

Left drowning in this madness

Hiding from the sadness

That futility brings

Like a never-ending Autumn

Where everything’s decaying – dying

Those of us who have stopped trying

Picking plastic flowers

Fighting against dark powers

This the eleventh hour

Such terror it will bring

 

Yet deep within my soul

A constant song I sing

Of hope, of love, of freedom

New life – forever Spring…

 

 

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©M.C. Bolton, October 2018

 

Photo by Angel Lewis, All Saints Road, October 2018