Uncut Truth Poem by Mark Heathcote
Uncut Truth
That what's sacrosanct, delusional, unbending?
Like a dead willow branch, unwilling to bow,
That what's so rigid breaks; it can't curve or won't
Take in all, that's held in a pointillist picture.
That what's sacrosanct isn't whole
Isn't part of the whole quantum picture?
It's just one subject's narrow point of view, a view
Removed to represent; the unabridged, uncut truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/7/2025 1:41:15 AM # 1.0.0
