Real

There was a time when I had certainty

Thinking I knew what real was

With the hubris of untested innocence

I’d form opinions and judgments

Sharing them with assured authority

With no thought of testing assumptions

Ready to convict or to reward

But now I know how hard it is

To see behind illusions we think are real

All I can ever hope to know is my own truth

Even that is hard to grasp

So I accept whatever happens

Without trying to control

I’ve given up trying to judge others

For myself honesty is its own reward

 

 

David Trudel       ©  2013

 

 

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1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “Real

  1. I like it. Simple and sounds truthful. 🙂

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