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Acrostic: When the Bough Breaks
4-22-18, Olan Smith
World-without―who claims eternity?
Hope fades with an unsure truth, of fictions
Endeared to us, false attitudes are prevalent, and are
Now infused in tangled realities, see the inscrutable
Towers of snarled webs we construct of fiction.
Hours of narratives told as truth...what-is-what,
Even the creators know not. Hope is false
Brother and sister in a bizarre world of opposites
Out of Truth even she becomes juxtaposed. Funny
Until this moment the reader did not realize the
Greatest narrative is the self, unfinished. Perhaps,
Humans are stories, they're sagas of godly scribes
Born in other dimensions, but always with you; they
Read you and make you real. You are their Words!
Even now you are spoken, but do not look too deep,
Answers are beneath the cyphers. Understand?
Keep your mitts off the script. Don't alter what's carved in
Stone, and accept the authenticity you observe.
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
