WHERE DOES TRUTH LIE?

Where does truth lie?
Does it lie in the middle of parallel planes, 
Where it hovers between the elevations of pride and the depths of shame?
Does it pump and beat like the heart of a bumpy street, 
Where it lies and tries not to strain as those with fame walk over it and its puddles of rain?
Or did it grow and thrive in the olden lives of those with rotten souls and forgotten names, 
Where any money claimed or success gained dropped like an anxious downpour of rain?
And then, does truth decide who is to be blamed?
Indeed, where does truth lie?
 
Does it lie under the colors of Easter eggs,
Which children search for with their agile arms and little legs?
Does it rise from the disguise of a painted shell that parents hide and scatter in various places,
On annual occasions, only for their kids to find, 
And in time, learn to tell even before sadder or scariest faces?
And what happens if a kid finds no traces, no traces of those rainbow eggs?
Does truth sit, with untested tether, within those colored shells forever?
Then, do children cry because their reply of truth and now is instead naught and never?
And what if the children hide their tears for one, three, or five years?
Would it be safe, then, for truth to lie here?
Indeed, where does truth lie?
 
Does it lie within the soul of a rubber band, which can be played with by a playful hand?
Can it be stretched by a wretch, or a rapper or a ranter, 
An excessive length depending on its strength?
Then, when it is released, does it strike pain upon the person, living or 
	deceased, that it will reach?
And what if the distance pulled breaks the rubber band’s limit?
Will the stretcher be a fool of a backfired gimmick?
Or does the stretch hold things together, uniting separated bonds during bad weather?
And if so both, how far lies the boundaries of truth’s tether?
Indeed, where does truth lie?
 
Wherever it lies, does it lie there for a single second or for a single eternity?
Wherever it lies, does it lie there on a single point or on a single plane?
Does truth lie anywhere anyway, or is it suppose to?
Should truth even lie at all, or is truth all a lie within itself?
Indeed, where does truth lie?

© December 1996