Love Of Truth Poem by Jet Burns

When young we have such deep o'er-whelming dreams!
for highest hopes then burn away all dross;
though what is real becomes not as it seems,
emerging hateful from the feathered gauze:
as does our virtue when our guise is shed;
have thus we spite of all the world belies;
so far from truth that turns our tortured heads
to seek what inner solace we may find;
away from dreaded falsehoods we may wear
as do our hated foes! Then does swift shine
our truest Self! Unhinged from any care
and drunk on high felicity like wine:
thus life is nourished with the honest bread,
allowed to flourish, never being dead.