The Truth About It Poem by H.L. Dowless

No more leeches, no more pain,
no more reasons to explain.
The way it all was, is the way that it shall stand to exist,
no more reasons to resist.


The pain is too much, the loss to great,
no more justification to debate.
The time has come, since the hurt is still here,
this bloody torture will never disappear.


They told me don't, but I just can't deny
that the pain still hurts until I cry.
I tried their false purloining cures, I took their poisoned pills,
but they could never cure my wretched ills.


My fingers can't bend, my legs can't walk,
but this hell that I am living is nobody's fault.
My feet were born crippled, but my situation was their disciple.
The conquest that was so near, was so inviting.


I went to their false schools, I sang their lying songs,
but I never did find my place to belong.
The day has come, this deed weighs heavily upon me that I must do,
so don't anyone dare walk around feeling so blue.


This time for all draws ever so near,
but I can tell ye people, that there is no reason to fear.
Some say you will, some say you wont,
but I say that their own looming future shall be their eternal taunt.