Our teacher told us...
To write some words building phrases
To write some phrases building a text
And to turn this text into a poem
But a poem about what?
A poem needs words
Words need a meaning
And phrases need a message!
Right?
It's a message about me
About my truth
But what is my truth?
Is it the same as the truth of my teachers,
The truth of my nearest,
The truth of my friends,
Or is it rather the voice from deep inside of my heart,
This fire burning for everything I want to achieve or change,
This motor telling me day for day to stand up and fight for my opinion,
This conscience of what is wrong and right for you, what is good or bad for me and what is important for us,
This deep sea of wishes, hopes and goals I am drowning in day after day, week after week and year after year?
Is all of this really my truth?
Or is it just a truth made up of everything my parents, teachers, friends and trainers what to be my truth,
Am I just a manipulated creature of the state, the media or the church,
Am I just a calculated resource of a power greater anybody could ever imagine,
A leave forced to fly with the wind
Or rather a bird free to fly anywhere he wishes to?
Who knows?
I don't!
You don't!
We don't!
No one does!
So is there any point of having a truth!
Who knows?
I don't!
You could!
They may!
So do I care about all of this?
I don't!
My truth is...
This voice telling,
This fire burning,
This motor running,
This conscience knowing
And this sea killing
But also...
My parents, teachers, friends wishing
And the media manipulating
All of this is my truth!
Not yours!
Not ours!
Not theirs!
But mine