Truth Hurts Poem by Naveed Akram

The truth hurts like a pain of bread and butter,
A painting is grasped by the toast and sandwich.
We must eat to stay alive in authority of our lives,
The powerful reach further when confronted by food
In massive quantities, so awful and praised.

The truth has entered the soul at the morning,
Inside this pellet of heartiness is a soul of an ant
That marches and works to be an unemployed animal.
The truth is certain that birds collect their seeds
To feed their tiny infant babies, the chicks of heaven.

The truth is exact, it is pain and distress, suffering to be,
Inside the soul is an artefact of the soil and earth.
Clay was the component of a young man and woman,
Pottery fed the ideology of mankind, and all its display,
Fetching a part of the mind, body and soul as if followed.