What a perplexing paradox,
This nature of truth –
Evolving strangely with time.

Do the truths of yesterday
Hold true today?
And will what is true today
Be equally true tomorrow?

The answers lie entwined
Amidst broken branches
Of meaning and purpose,
In unexplored chambers
Of the fragmented conscience.

How it pains me –
This illicit legitimacy,
Of truth being true.
In times like today
Every truth is but contextual,
Woven intricately and
Manipulated shrewdly
To gratify man’s ego.

We preach of truth;
And with such fervor,
We sing this rhyme,
But these are all
Shades of grey,
Neither black or white.

The truth does exist, but oh!
What respect have we today
For its sanctity.

The winds of greed blow –
And we are being swept away
Amidst howls and sighs;
Just like these drops of truth evaporate
From an ocean of gnarling lies.

Originally published in KidSpirit Online for The Nature of Truth issue.

Swastika Jajoo was 17 when she wrote this poem. Swastika is from India and calls poetry her “window to the world.”

Artwork by Eleanor Bennett, created when she was 16 years old. She is from Manchester, UK.