Poetry communicates with fewer words.
BUT WHAT OF TRUTH
by Hal O’Leary
For now, the loss of truth’s the only known.
The truth’s become old fashioned. Could this be?
With lies, we have decided to condone,
Just what the end will be, I cannot see.
The truth is now old fashioned. Could this be,
Like chastity and people you can trust?
Just what the end will be, I cannot see,
For those believing life was somehow just.
Like chastity and people you can trust,
A thing called love could also disappear
For those believing life was somehow just.
We’ve got to make an effort, or I fear
A thing called love could also disappear,
To set each individual apart.
We’ve got to make an effort, or I fear
There is the chance that we could lose the heart.
To set each individual apart,
With lies we have decided to condone,
There is the chance that we could lose the heart.
For now, the loss of truth’s the only known.
