I know three words of magic
That tell a beautiful truth.
He stared me in my eyes
Awaiting these words, three...
To flow from the wells of my soul
And spring through my lips, quivering.
He summoned the waves of sound
To carry them,
Unto his self-indulgent ears...
And drown them, in his unquestioning heart.
I know of three magic words
That make a humble truth.
They are but simple, albeit unknown.

“I don’t know”

Dust in the wind but I am
What rights have I to know?
Aren’t I a passenger in the dark,
A traveler of light?
What do I sincerely…know?
I am nothing into something.
I am something into nothing.
But I know just one thing.
And they are three magical words.
Humble and truthful.
I know. That I don’t know.

He…knew of three enchanting words
That made a handsome lie.
He longed to hear them, from me
These heavy words… boorishly abused.
But I am a lone traveler
I pay no heed to false knowledge
Nor have I time for ephemeral gratification.
All I could tell him was
“I don’t know”
But he valued his lie over my truth
And gasped at my last two words
Which were neither “love” nor “you”.