Gifts In Their Lives

People who tell it like it is,
To those fortunate with patience to listen.
Know they are blessed to have people like this,
As gifts...
In their lives.

And those who run and hide defying,
In complaints to others...
Criticize and despise what to them has been told.
With a crying to sigh on accustomed shoulders to hold.

Many one day will wish,
People who tell it like it is...
Would be more in numbers in their midst.
And had been given their respect.
Without a quickened dismissing them to exist.

'What has happened to those people,
Who were not afraid to speak the truth?
All we have around us now,
Are those deceiving with corruption to pursue.'

~That's not difficult to answer at all.
When was the last time you allowed your delusions,
To sit with a willingness to chat with truth? ~

'well...
I...er...'

~And while you search your mind for a response.
Who did you call to convince,
Your feelings were hurt deliberately?
And this was an intention that was meant.
That brought a pouting to your lips,
Eternally.~

'Well...
I didn't like what was said and how it was said to me.'

~But deceptions you've embraced as your close friends.
And I am sure you have been feeling a comfort you condone.
With a protective excusing wall of defense.~

'Well...
I...er,
You don't know me to say what it is I do.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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