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Thread of Truth
My fingers grip this implement
and itch to exorcise
the turbulence within my soul
that's lived within Truth's guise.
The threads that weaved my tapestry
from a faulty loom, once spun,
were threads of lies, malignant,
that are frayed and come undone.
They did not stand the test of time
but served me well, for some...
Today, unravel freely and
are unfit for even slum.
The tapestry of who I am
I weave today with care...
Employing but the finest threads
that Truth now brings to bare.
No recycling in this weave,
no hand-me-downs or scraps,
my fingers itch to intertwine
gold threads of finest naps.
and so it is I search today
through closets long denied,
cleaning out my thread box
to restock with thread Truth-plied.
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