A Whisper

What is known is not always believed. That which is done Is not always achieved. What is positive is not necessarily good. That which is heard is not always understood. I am only the whisper of a voice in the midst of many. A paradox of poverty in times of plenty. One of many of life’s enigmas. Ash is from ashes. Dust is of dust. Vanity is of disgust. What is volatile cannot be stable. Truth being truth cannot be fabled. What has been named cannot be Labled What was Once taken can now be freely given.

Only if it has been built on foundations that will not be shaken
When transgressions are forgiven.
What is despised cannot be embraced.
What is cherished cannot be replaced.
I am the whisper of a voice in
The midst of many.

From the confines of a prison cell.