the truth spoke

pounded on the butcher block

behind a door with no visible lock,

i'm being told what everyone thinks

and how to dress and how many drinks

i'd be allowed,

while i'm unconsciously floating on a cloud

above the tumult of a storm.

i was trying to find a place that's safe and warm

when a voice appeared,

and it didn't seem weird,

so i didn't ask it to stay or leave;

there was nothing to find hiding up my sleeve.

i was told to pull on my pants,

to bend low learning how to dance

the American Way and the tango,

whichever way the prevailing winds would blow.

there are those who are confused and others in the know,

some are close by but many out of reach,

often fighting and criticizing my freedom of speech. 

so i just taped my mouth shut and ran away:

i tried to focus on what i did and not on what i heard them say.

but then the truth began speaking and i had to agree,

the one who gave them permission to be censors was me.

i saw the golden Buddha and heard Thomas Paine

and their philosophical friends coming out of the dark rain.

everyone holding hands when the sun came out ,

and in the evening quiet there was a defiant shout!

no one could ever be completely wrong 

singing their own personal diary song,

in honor of the message that was written on the original wall

which warned we all must stand together

or everyone will fall.