Being Sincere About Sincerity

I can be sincere about garbage It's no more than a gift I now see, A chameleon shift into fanciful riff That has nothing to do with me. I'm not sure just where this gift comes from It's potential the slave of each use It might come from heaven but still could come from hell It reeks of the chance of abuse! It's probably wise to use caution When approaching somebody like me Apparent openness used to throw you off guard But motives as deep as the sea! The sad truth's most folks are not ready, Cannot cope with the scope of my art, ‘Cause their naivety's simply geared to what's grey They are out of their depth with Descartes. It's true I am smart (but no genius) But once in a seminar called ‘Sage' A voluntary process that I enrolled in Required me to get on the stage. The challenge was quite simply stated, ‘Just get all seated people to stand, ' The only real problem was there were so many, And everyone knew what I planned. Much worse, seated folk were instructed, To never rise up from their chair, Unless wholly convinced that I was authentic, I was sure I had not a pray'r! Then I spoke and some started rising I had only ten minutes to try, Of course some sat back down, but would then rise again, Once committed, I just would not sigh! ‘I want to thank those who have risen! And you, Sir, would you please rise again? Ladies and Gentlemen, Please! Please remain standing! Please return to where you've just been.' So I spoke my ‘truth' again and again. Until, Oh my God, all were standing ! ‘Why don't you see if you can make them sit back down? ' ‘Try it! ' His voice was commanding. The clock, he said, still had five minutes, Without thinking I gave it a go, With just ten seconds left, the crowd was all seated, And I swear that's all that I know.