What shapes the certain, never undone?
The tongue stumbles where logic fails,
“Absolutely certain”—twice the weight.
A thought repeats to show its face,
Clocks never mark a “timeless moment,”
Storms don’t bring skies “unexpectedly gray.”
Do we fear the silence of precision,
Or find comfort in doubled assurance?
Seek a “final conclusion,” taut and still,
Or chase “added bonuses” of fleeting joy.
From “safe havens” to “true facts” given,
The mind arrays what it need not bind.
Where language mirrors our fragile trust,
Emphasis rings like a cracked refrain.
We lace our speech with mirrored tones,
Afraid the naked truth won’t suffice.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: April 21st, 2025 12:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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Comments3
Tremendous work.
Thank You Thomas I appreciate your feedback and your work inspiries me brother.
A deep message set in this poem that hides behind the silver word plate of the mirror. Nicely written
enjoyed this, thanks for sharing
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