It does not matter where truth sits.
Comfortably and unconcerned.
Loaded with proof and evidence.
As deception does its best,
To discredit truth's appearance.
While deception appears,
Running out of fuel and in need of rest.
Truth knows it has substance.
With it to have in abundance.
And truth will sit,
Observing deception weaken.
Weakened by a charade.
As truth patiently awaits,
For this charade to give up and quit.
But deception defiantly,
Seeks ways to undo truth.
With unsubstantiated accusations.
And exhausting movements,
To recruit volunteering fools.
Who too rush around to find dirt found.
On truth.
Deception wants to prove pretends innocence.
However...
Clearly on today's agenda,
There is no mention of a convention.
Scheduled to prioritize,
A gathering of fools and clowns.
Since people have been seriously awaiting.
And on the edge of their seats.
For truth to produce all that it has,
With a promise to deliver...
A credible performance.
Deception has never had.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem