WHEN NOT DEFINED

The following is a poem one of my friends wrote. Title was 'When not defined.....'

When I see the truth I say what I feel,
but I found that to others I couldn't appeal.
I tried to tell them, but words couldnt explain
what I felt inside, be it love or joy or pain.

The more I tried to make myself clear,
I found that the truth had become dirtier.
The truth of the heart is corrupted by the mind;
Some things are clearer when not defined......

My reply is what you see below!

Nice! I remember we discussing something on these lines, back in 2006.

Now....

I have bigger worries.
Bigger or different, or whatever. Oh!


What is this life, full of care; No time to stand and stare;
stare, at the truth; and indulge in it.
Dirty it with words;
reclaim its purity with silence
filled with more words, just expressed in limit.

Stare! To stare at the truth and indulge in it!
I might soon become incapable of seeing anything;
Running, running along with closed eyes.
With pain and joy limited to the physical realm.
When it is anything other than physical,
it is something I would otherwise have laughed at. Trivial.
And the other thing... love.
Is there a smiley that is self-geering, Hello hello Tahoma!?
Aureliano! Are you me!?
Thank goodness, there are some kids around.
Spreading some cheer and dreams.
And, more thanks to goodness,
I dont have to take these kids to my home.

My home, where I can,
sit aone and stare at the truth;
indulge in its dirtiness;
silently swear, jibe at its pretentious clarity.