The foamy surf has crashed into the sand
Disguising all the treachery of man
Hiding it beneath a film of silvered green
Genuinely counterfeit, a sham …

Still yet, we swear its authenticity
Adamantly sticking to our view
Unconcerned with fact or honesty
Clinging to our version of the truth

We wonder where our peace has gone astray
Blinded by the bilge caught in our quay
Never giving thought to delve beneath the glow
Seeking candor buried in the bay

But, as we hoard false fortune to our souls
Finding nothing satiates the holes
Which seep incessantly, with hidden unshed tears
Life’s insincerity has taken toll

Until there comes a time when we lay down
Underneath the pile we’ve made our crown
Exhausted, desperate, conclusively
Cognizant that all, that we may see
may not be true…

by Betty Jo Hilger

Other poems of HILGER (64)

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