Which is worse,
The stone-cold weight of undeniable truth
That comes with a permanent shift
In your understanding of the world,
Or grasping frantically at straws
That you know won't bear the weight of scrutiny.
Sometimes holding onto a half-lies, false memories,
Any dishonesty we can get our hands on,
Is more comfortable than opening that
One-way door into the unknown.
YOU ARE READING
Scattered Leaves
PoetryLanguage is a reflection of humanity. Chaos that veers into organization Just to spin away again with a giggle and a grin. Random poems that I write. I will update sporadically. Constructive criticism is appreciated. If you want to see my best poem...
