The Carpet

The wind was crisp

and the sun sang warm to my skin.

The rest of the world was too fast

to know bliss like that.

The truth is: the truth is too expensive;

a depth of emotion most are unwilling

to pay.

Humanity can’t see through true eyes.

Can’t see the fighting is a small child’s game.

Who are the adults?

Let me know when you meet them.

Wounded and scared;

don’t you know how deeply you once felt the world?

The carpet is there for a reason.

The broom is used by all until the carpet

spills the truth.

The truth, they say,

will set you free, and I am free

to tell you that.

But, then again,

the carpet is good, too.