we the people.

picture perfect

from the world i draw my paint
society, my muse
as i brush upon this page
my letters form the hues

people often mistake my words
for that which is my voice
nothing's as simple as it reads
not by fate but choice

you seek the pure and simple truth
and i can offer this:
it's rarely pure and never simple
your arrows run amiss

read beyond the text you see
read between the lines
who's the poet, who's the pawn?
can you read the signs?

each and every person here
is capable to see
all the flaws and specialties
that make humanity
[03.08.2004]