Veritas by Windel Zamora Canbando

Life is but a fancy poetry;
Truths are hidden in genuine irony.
Behold it's true,so hard to famthom,
As a child with wondered eyes over the fallen leaves of Autumn.

So many faces along the way,
Yet what's inside is kindling enmity.
And there are few who used to smile,
In midst of their wounded knees to vanish the pain a while...

And why this sole man in the empty street so gay?
Who can hardly eat his meals a day...
But here is a man who owns gold and silver,
Yet still finds himself nil and meager!

Quid veritas est?
So hard to answer...
But please remember...
"Magna est veritas et praevalebit!"