Rippling Tides

See the trouble with me?
I have an eye for the unobvious
Seeing things I’m maybe meant not to see.
I sometimes wonder at my indignity,
Based on the principle the truth will always rise
So what on earth’s the point of hiding behind lies
-Or ‘half truths’ if you’d prefer a little subtlety
Though frankly such gentility is proper lost on me…
The world of others’ rules and regs
Leaves me feeling like a right square peg.
I’ve tried and failed to compromise,
To pare right down misfit surprise
At just how easily people cleave
One to another in shared belief.
Therein, the possibility
Of perverting social history,
One tiny seed the first inception
Of displaced cognitive insurrection:
The eye of a storm
That builds to cause harm,
The pebble in a puddle
That ripples astride
An already clearly discomfited tide,
The whispering, whimpering, simmering tirade
Passed one to another like a live grenade.
The pen may be mightier than the sword
But never underestimate the spoken word.

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