It was hidden behind a facade
It was the tree lost in the wood of lies
I was blind to it, didn't want to hear it
Even closed my ears and eyes
I didn't want to even understand
So I stuck my head in the sand
But it was ferreted out, it was winkled out
And prized apart like an oyster to reveal its pearl
It was weighed in the hand, on the scales of justice
It has been weighed against the purest gold in the world
And found to be of perfect carat,
It is better than the finest wine of the best clarit
It has the clarity of a diamond
It shines a light, but not through a prism,
It is harder than the hardest criminal in the toughest prison
It does not dance like an ephemeral rainbow
When it stands, it stands tall, casts a long shadow
And people run from it in fear, other's hide in its shade
Still some would give their dying tear, for a drop of it to be made
It is hard to pin down, like a pin ball
weighs heavy as a crown, when it from the King's head it falls
It changes shape like a wraith, or a ghost coming through a wall
But in reality it never changes, like time itself or nothing at all
It is fact incarnate, it is the living flesh of an idea of man
But then women know it, as too a child can
It requires, like the pearl, grit to make it stick
Courage to tell it, the skill to make it disappear as if a magic trick
But like a weight-lifter's load, it is a relief to get it off your chest
It is the long and lonely road, where your belief in it is put to the test
And often involves fits of tears, and smeared make-up and tissues
In hospital waiting rooms, or beside beds
It is easy to fake it, vanity imitates it, but then the mirror breaks
The axe falls, and it is reflected in the splinters, a hologram, a whole
As the narcissus must crawl back inside his hole
It is pure, it is the most valuable treasure we own
Yet it cannot truly be sold
Because when this is tried it disappears
Below the fold
And isn't seen for days
It is on the run
Like a snow abll rolling down a hill
In the end creates an avalanche
Then all the dominoes fall in its wake
Like match stick trees after a volcanic blast
To others it is a tradable commodity
Because someone will pay top dollar for it
But when they have it, they only wish to hide it again
And cover ups are cheaper when they are smoked
With a pack of lies
It is like a ticking bomb then, liable to explode
In their hands
Or like a burning match it will burn the fingers
Of the one holding it, yes, it is sometimes fire
And sometimes ice, because they die with it.
They take it to their graves.
And then the trail runs cold,
But if we let ourselves sell it so cheaply
We sell with it our souls.
It comes out in the wash
With the dirty linen
It is the skeleton in the closet
To be discovered by the bin men
It is told in halves, in pieces of a puzzle
It is hinted at by clues or by fingerprints on a muzzle
It sometimes can seem dark, though often loud as a dog's bark
And like a dog with bone at play, it too must have its day
It is free to everyone whether a king or a slave,
Yet it can cost the earth, or it can cost a close shave,
It can slip from your hands when you don't watch it
You must keep your eye on the ball, you must be brave
It is the writing on the wall, it is the writing on your grave
Most of all if you speak it then a life you might save
