There are things
I will never understand.
The pain, the hate that
exists within my life.
There is nothing but time,
there is nothing real.
Truth is a concept,
no one ever sees.
No one ever feels it right,
and inside the truth
are only questions
of pain, of reality,
and a forgoing existence,
that has everyone living
outside the truth
and inside tradition,
opinion and thought.
With all being accepted now.
All truth changes in time…
“Do you remember yesterday?
Was last year the same? ”
In truth, death is reality.
Written November 22,1983
You continue to do a brilliant job. even your early work is gret. Big 10 hugs Jan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Did you know that truth is only a point of view. We all have our own truth. MM