Weapons of Truth

I stopped with a dead-blank stare
Jaw-dropped, mouth breathing
Responses I could not dare
As I wondered

Drenched in a cold lake sweat
Perfumed humanity scent
An allegorical debt
I was frozen in my shock

I walked in on a dream
Left running on my heel
Scared, hurt and bleeding
The weapons of truth be told
Scarred and often fleeting

So how does one respond
To that kind of knife thrust?
Pale, shaken and gone
In a moment best forgotten

I will not let this define
Me, nor you for me
And for acceptance, I decline
To play this kind of game

I walked in with a scream
Left a worthless heel
Scared, hurt and bleating
The weapons of truth be told
Scarred but growing seedling

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