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Rubber Worms
Truth comes in one golden droplet
you can wait for days -weeks
or a lifetime for it to appear
in a dustbowl of faithlessness and doubt...
You wait like a blind baby bluebird
but mom only brings a rubber worm.
Eventually the sweet droplet meets
the soul's red parched beak
songs are sung in hues of golden love
everything bathed in thankfulness and blessing.
A lie is much more frequent
an endless deluge of infinite confusion
a blue thorned brackish delusion
a fire ball of blame, hate and rage.
It may take a millennium,
but a lie will collapse under its own toxic weight...
Transparency always devours opaque.
Copyright ©
Anthony Biaanco
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