Nobody likes the truth
It’s just too hard
Too hard to hear
Too hard to bear
Too hard
A semblance of the truth
Might be okay
Gives us room
To live another day
When the prosecution gets to work
Our case can look a shipwreck
On the rocks
The things we’ve done
Things we’ve failed to do
Cover us in compromise
Worthy of the stocks
Today young Andrew
In finding the Messiah
Finds a man authorities will fear
They’ll hound him from the synagogue
Bring him into court
And nail him to a tree
Outside the walls
That’s what we do with truth
We crucify it
For fear it will our inner selves reveal
We have not met with mercy
The Messiah’s holy name
Until we do
We are playing the same game
Brian Fahy
4 January 2022
Erris Poetry 