Truth

a poem i wrote last year

Truth
It is like a river, always moving,
always changing shape, always changing color.
Like colors it has many hues
like colors it can be mixed
like colors it is contained
buried deep
where nobody can reach
where nobody can see.
People seek it,
but few find it.
Rulers control it and keep it under lock and key.
Patriots want it, but if found with it, are sent to the stocks.
People are afraid of it, yet crave more.
despite the fear it radiates
despite the pain,
they seek the ultimate joy.
It is truth