These Three Things Poem, by Tristan Robert Lange, at My poetic side

Why do wishes come in threes?

Well-pennies, genies and lamps

Bear honest witness to seize

Apathy out of love cramps.

Since I cannot begin to hear

The answers in my own head,

I have to speak, I do fear,

These thoughts chock-filled with dread.

These three things, then, I must say,

Whether they’re wanted or not,

For truth must win out each day;

It’s time to give it a shot.

Before I profess the whole

Of what is within my heart,

It is an important goal

To have actors play their part.

So, now it’s time to begin

The end of all hopeless lies.

Will the play end without sin,

Or within another guise?

Three simple things to be said,

Let me start with number one,

That truth is already dead

Murdered by those who now shun.

Which leads me to number two,

A treacherous fact indeed,

That often what gets to you,

Aren't the things that make you bleed.

Now, with not a moment’s pause,

Comes the cold number three.

What is gone is without cause,

And that has imprisoned me.

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