It’s not a ferris wheel
with fancy lights
that draws you to
the other side at night.
I know because once
I tried to take that ride
and end my life.

It’s not a pool of cool
reflecting water
that lets you see
the ones you long to,
sparkling images
that smile sweetly
back from deaths arms
to finally greet you.

It’s not a church choir
there to inspire
with regimented lyrics
that repeat mundanely
boring the **** out of me
for their lack of
originality.

It’s not perfectly sanitized,
or measured in black and white.
Truth is not always just
wrong and right
sometimes there are nuances
but there are definitely not
alternative facts.

This poem is not an exploration
of the nature of death
or the reality of truth.
it is just a pretty painting
in poetry and prosaic presentation
of my inexhaustible ego, whimsy,
and creativity.