POETRY, Syllable Tapestries

Fact, Truth, and Faith.

Fact, Truth, and Faith.
It’s a word my father loved so much.
Facts are those things which happen,
or just are.
[dic. Meaning]
examples, you ask.
Well, let me see.
I’m a man, or I’m a hybrid native american
Or I went to college, or I lived on the tar river.
Or I’m a chef, or I’m a painter, or I’m a poet, etc., etc.
These are things which are a part of me,
and that I can not change.
I can choose not to practice them anymore
But I can not change the fact that I am these things.
They are my history,
my building blocks which make me what I am,
and brings me to the truths.
This is a word that can end friendships, loves,
Or even send you to jail for five years,
maybe even life.
History can not be written without truths,
Albeit, truths are strange creatures;
Because everybody has their own.
Truths are perspectives of the facts.
and sometimes when someone talks of facts,
it’s their angle in which they saw the fact,
that they are telling you about.
Fact: there is a tree standing in the yard.
How we perceive that tree is the truth.
When I see a tree, I see a living creature, a friend,
Whom I can go and sit down under and write,
Or talk to, or just sleep under or in;
However, another man could gaze upon that same very tree
And see wood to build a house, or pulp to make a box or paper,
Or a bird sees it as a house, etc., etc.
Such a complicated word, yet so simple.
One must have faith,
or not.
With faith
you may just see
the many truths around the facts.

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