Fundamental

It's hard to imagine
That I've spoke the truth.
That I've said not a lie
Lived like the Biblical Ruth.

These things feel real,
Like the socks on my feet.
Then why is truth cold,
Like snow when it sweeps?

I'm told I heard wrong.
I'm told it's not that.
Then why, tell me why,
Do I feel stuck like a rat?

A chaotic cornerstone
That can't do it's job.
And into my soul
Leaves an achey throb.