Lies, damn lies, and statistics
Last week's Poetry Thursday prompt was about lies. I could insert one here and give a fabulous excuse as to why I'm just now getting around to writing on it. Truth is, I got lazy last week and didn't even look. And aliens abducted me. No really..they did. *grin*
Anyway, in the description for the 'day of posting' (Poetry Thursday: the dog ate it and other lies), one line caught me. I've been walking around with it for 2 days now, knowing something's brewing.
Dana wrote "But I write to get at the truth."
Whoa. Yeah, that's part of why I write, that and cartharsis. I write to keep from exploding and to ease my body. I write to cope, to come to terms or understanding with the pain and the joy that happens in my life. (I might be a little too analytical about myself.) Truth happens, somehow, but it's never the main goal.
So, after brewing for a couple days, here's where I wound up.
The truth is Words set me free.
The truth is I am Nothing
without them.
The truth is what makes the Page
is the Lie.
The truth is Honesty is
Colored
Covered
in roses, Thorns and all
So that I may find the Beauty.
Hm...okay. After rereading that...I need to chill a bit. Literally--I need to relax. I just got all angsty (by my own estimation). Oh well. it happens.
Oh..and my title come from my favorite 'attributed to Mark Twain" quote.
Check out last week's Poetry Thursday: the dog ate it and other lies for more thoughts on lies, and the people who tell them.
Anyway, in the description for the 'day of posting' (Poetry Thursday: the dog ate it and other lies), one line caught me. I've been walking around with it for 2 days now, knowing something's brewing.
Dana wrote "But I write to get at the truth."
Whoa. Yeah, that's part of why I write, that and cartharsis. I write to keep from exploding and to ease my body. I write to cope, to come to terms or understanding with the pain and the joy that happens in my life. (I might be a little too analytical about myself.) Truth happens, somehow, but it's never the main goal.
So, after brewing for a couple days, here's where I wound up.
The truth is Words set me free.
The truth is I am Nothing
without them.
The truth is what makes the Page
is the Lie.
The truth is Honesty is
Colored
Covered
in roses, Thorns and all
So that I may find the Beauty.
Hm...okay. After rereading that...I need to chill a bit. Literally--I need to relax. I just got all angsty (by my own estimation). Oh well. it happens.
Oh..and my title come from my favorite 'attributed to Mark Twain" quote.
Check out last week's Poetry Thursday: the dog ate it and other lies for more thoughts on lies, and the people who tell them.
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