Truth


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Where is the line
that divides truth
from creativity?
When I write
my poems,
do I have
an obligation
to write exactly
what I feel?
Or is it alright
to bend, stretch,
and mould
my words
so that they
encompass
feelings more
than mine?
Do I use my poetry
to describe that
which is
or that
which can be?
Do I let bare facts
define
my boundaries
or do I let
wanton creativity
set me free?
What the truth
of this matter is,
I quite simply
cannot see.
But until I decide
I will choose
to err on the side
of creativity.

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