Truth Hurts
The truth is a blade, sharp and cold,
Cutting through tales that comfort told.
It strips away masks, lays bare the bone,
Leaves you raw, exposed, alone.
It whispers in shadows, a ruthless sound,
No mercy in secrets when they’re found.
It burns like a fever, it stings like a thorn,
A weight in your chest where trust was born.
You beg for the lie, soft and sweet,
A fleeting escape from the truth’s harsh beat.
But it hunts you down, relentless, clear,
Forcing your eyes to face the fear.
Truth doesn’t bend, it doesn’t sway,
It carves its path, come what may.
And though it hurts, it sets you free—
A brutal gift, reality.