Up again early! Why must inspiration strike in the wee hours?
Why can't this stuff happen at 3 pm, while I'm eating a cookie?
Are You Sure?
There are some serious, timeless feuds like the Hatfields and McCoys
But also quite well documented are these hog thieving, murderous boys
Our story lines, quite sadly, are not so clearly cut and dry
And though we think we're certain; time clouds the reasons why
Remember as we choose to recall what might be true
While one accusatory finger points; there's three curling back at you
Implications aren't truth. Hearsay isn't fact
Emotions create a parallel plane in which not everything's in tact
We mold the words within our memory; make the actions fit the crime
And all the while, all we do, is rob ourselves of precious time
The weight of all the anger; the bitterness we keep
Is a foul and polluted marinade in which we seem to steep
We've affixed these little blinders to view only what we choose
A boxed-up little version; our self-serving personal ruse
We've cut off part of our being; created a life where that's ok
But deep within, we're still attached, the connection never goes away
Honesty's the best policy. To question that is certainly odd
The only place for such resentment is six feet under sod
We all recount and reminisce from our selfish point of view
When the tale provides such anger; ponder if that recollection's true
For rarely is it one's sole point to cause another person hurt
Check the gorgeous glass house you live in; it's covered in a film of dirt
So stop for just a moment. Is the angst that you endure
Emotional or factual. Is it real? Are You Sure?
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