I realized, not 'cause I did not realize;
that truth troubles some people
a lot like the storm of death.
Kind of a tale being dramatized by scouting lovers of truth;
and sleuth haters of truth.
Why would it worry me;
when some are carried away,
and others are tied down?
Why would it bother me;
when some sleeps on scrappers;
and others on the cracked walls of streets?
Why would it tremble me;
when you rushed and I slowed down?
There's no end to such questions;
when one cares.
There's solution to such questions;
when one dares.
I measured the diameter of earth;
and it's not equivalent of length.
Why would it give me a nightmare today;
Why would one not pay attention;
to those who scream?
Nature's beauty is manifested in you and me;
there's much love to give.