The cry goes up within our words, forsooth the truth will out
Dichotomy of choice confronts and holds the weary mind in thrall
For readers sake a meaning clear, or guaranteed to raise a doubt
A baring of one’s soul or exposé of facts that cloud the call

Metaphor deception of a skilled transparent kind
Intention not forthcoming, in the proffered verse so used
May lead us down a path, with end conclusion always hard to find
Resulting revelation leaves our feelings sometimes slightly bruised

We live out life in shadowed cloaks of grey and white, or poets shade
In agony and ecstasy, we suffer for our written Art
In mindful contemplation of presenting insincere charade
No subterfuge is shown within response, just understanding to impart