Reality, truth, realization, of what?
Can anyone point out the fun of it all.
Inspiring it seems
from a distance though,
doesn't everything
we do not know?

Years, does it take to
reach that threshold.
Once there, what be it,
that we hold?
TRUTH, they say is what
one shall behold.
Unknown realities, or just
facts gone cold?

Albeit a beauty
it shall be,
expectations and beyond,
one would see,
but where again, would
he want to be?
Within true tales
or fantasy.

Before this, thus, the legend says :

"Unfathomable are its ways,
Its beauty and its tales,
to uncover thus, takes a sage,
not what a meer thinker might gauge."

Hence the truth glares at one's face,
a grin so frightful, hard to face,
then the legend one reads again,
for fright and delight,
are naught for the sage.

I got a letter from the government
A week back, Tuesday morning
It came in a grey envelope
It was stamped with a red warning

The envelope was tattered
And the words were inked in red
To be opened by recipient
That was all it said

I checked the name typed on there
It was mine, so I could see
John Augustus Reed
Beale Street, Unit 43

I opened it and sat right down
I had been drafted so it said
I had to report on Thursday
I heard a ringing in my head

I didn't understand it all
To me it made no sense
This plain grey mottled envelope
Sent from my government

I followed the instructions
And showed up promptly at the place
Something was asunder
I could tell from the man's face

I showed him my draft letter
Explained, I didn't understand
He looked at it and laughed a bit
This wasn't what I'd planned

He said son, is this you
Are you John Augustus Reed
I told him I'm John Junior
He said that's all the news I need

This letter is a glitch, boy
It wasn't meant for you
It was sent out to your father
Back in nineteen seventy two

Somehow it was mangled
Got lost along the way
Until somebody found it
And you got it on that day

I'm glad you chose to come here
Showed up exactly when it said
But, I think you now can go on home
I think it's best, instead

It's amazing how one letter
And you can take this to the bank
Can fill a man with honor
For that I must give thanks.

I'm sorry I could not love you
through all of your endless metaphors
or in all the ways you handed me words
of what your heart had in store.

I'm sorry I could not love you
when you loved me with so much magic.
I'm sorry somehow I made you realize
that fairy tales did not happen.

I'm sorry I could not love you
for your hands or for your eyes,
for the way you kept me laughing
or for the way you loved my smile.

I'm sorry I could not love you
and you decided to say goodbye.
But now here I sit and write
remembering your lullabies.

I'm sorry now for telling the truth-
but this has become a tragedy.
I'm sorry I only learned to love you
when you had stopped loving me.