Truth or Glory?

Truth or Glory?
Which is my story?
Am I a lie,
or does Truth make me cry?
Is Glory my aim,
only ego and fame?
Or can I explain;
in gentle, humble refrain:

What's my Truth?
What my questions
Have to do with my decisions,
With my heart-felt expression?
Can I be convinced of my devotion?
To not want applause,
to help worthy cause?
To not ask for ovation,
for my measly donation?

Because wounded heart
was broken from the start,
Who still looks for love,
in kind eyes and there of
Might try to find,
some love shown in kind,
For heroic acts;
and brilliant, found facts
That might help bring alive,
for love there to thrive.

So this little boy,
still wants to find joy,
By making it right,
to save her from fright.
And I love him so,
that little hero,
Whose intentions are sound.
Who only wanted to be bound
To love for a day,
and hoping it would stay.

But everyone must,
find their way through the dust,
And through their own fire,
and can't ultimately require
The white knight to rescue,
them from their own miscue.
And the best way to play;
the loving friend's way:
Is to just be a mirror.
Ask to make it some clearer.

Why are you in trouble?
Is this a reflection on your bubble?
Your soapy life's whole?
A detour from your goal?
Please tell me your pain.
Tell me once and again.
Cry it all out;
using screams, whispers, shouts.

But don't ask me to fix,
your problem and then mix
Me up with your father;
your poor, wounded mother.
Because then probably,
another wounded day;
Happens instead of awakening,
and then we're forsaking

This potential, last chance;
to actually dance.
And understand the pain,
and then perhaps gain
The wisdom to know,
how the merry-go-
Round works. So then,
we can jump off and send
Our love up the hill.
Truth....not Glory, by will.


Truth or Glory?
by Loveson G. Flower
June 8, 1997