The old man stood his ground
When the sound of objections
Seeped through the mentions
Of thought and concern.
"You'll learn, just as I,
That men were bred to lie."
The youth still showed respect,
But continued to object,
"The truth may be viewed
As more costly than free,
But it is the way for me."
"Nothing you now know
Can ever begin to show you
How untrue your intentions are,"
The man sparred, his voice calm
While his palms grasped his chair,
His eyes a gentle yet wintry stare.
"My intentions are known,
Shown by actions and speech
Each of those around me can witness."
With this, the youth placed hand to hip,
Lips solemn under a determined gaze
As his face suddenly became older
From a voice much, much bolder.
He pointed to the man's chest,
"If you know this, then know the rest.
I will not stop until I drop dead
From doing what is right instead
Of what you, and they, think may be
The right way for me.
I will not accept the pretense
Of defense upon your sense of truth
That my youth has anything to do
With misunderstanding the standing line
That defines what is and is not true.
And I refuse to choose a life
Where I seek meek comfort over strife,
But pay the price of lies upon lies
When each morning my eyes yearn to see
A mirror of the man I came to be."
A crease stretched the old man's brow,
And, somehow, his eyes became colder,
More fierce, as if to pierce the air before him.
"Ignore him. That is what they will say,
Every day that you speak,
Never stopping until you are weak, and alone.
Old and dry from tears you can no longer cry.
Do you honestly think that I would sink so low
As to not know the fresh scent of truth meant
For my ears, my fears, my pain and joy?
You listen, and listen good to me, boy:
You want the truth to be your way?
Fine. Then suffer. Every. Single. Day.
Suffer as every woman that you love
Shoves you to the side, while inside
They ask for more stories of their glories
And what they truly are worth.
Suffer as every person on this earth
That you truly care for dares for you
To still speak their praise
While they raise the bar higher, and higher.
Suffer the liar, and the temptation
Upon your realization that no matter what you say,
Lies are what you will wade through,
Day after day.
Suffer, knowing that the truth may set you free,
But only so that you can truly see
How low and disgusting of a place
Our society can be.
And suffer the reality that only in lying
Will the crying, the pain, the strain of living
Be forgotten, forgiven, and foresaken...
Only by breaking the core concept of being you.
You see, my boy,
I was destroyed for being true.
Please... don't let that happen to you."
The old man sat back, eyes wracked
With memories of far off things,
The youth forgotten for a spell
As the hell he had been through was viewed again,
Cued then from his own brutal honesty
Of what the ultimate cost might be.
Not knowing what to say,
The youth looked away,
Lost in his own thoughts of what brought him there
To be the man he had wanted to be,
The honesty he craved for to brave more
Than he expected to take on or understand,
All envisioned by the missives of the older man.
The youth's gaze returned to see the honesty
Escaping down the old man's face,
And he understood what would be
His lesson for that day.
"Even after all of these years,
All of the lies,
Your tears haven't dried,
And you still wish for what is true.
I can't promise where I will go,
Or what road I will roam to make my way,
But, today, I can honestly say
Thank you, for being true.
Thank you, for simply being you."
And, with that, the old man watched
As his youth walked away.
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPad.