Trite

All poems about the truth of the world seem…
Well, self righteous
I understand
The truth often seems trite
The truth is: We know very little about a lot
Our lots in life, we could change
If we knew a lot
Who knows if things will ever change or not
Knowing the truth is all we got
When it alludes your perception you know you have to stop
And find where it hides
Knowledge is only power when you move your feet
Application is like plugging in the light so you can see
Reboot, Refresh, Revamp, Review, Remind, Repeat
Badu plus 3
All so keen to see the fruition of a dream
I am not fool, add some loot
Or cheese my eyes are green like Badu
I need lamb and seed
With a fam to feed
Every man’s in need
Maybe he’s got his hand in greed
Or hungry enough he’ll scam and flee
Land and deeds
Understand the thieves
Revamp, reread
Come back, achieve
We lack, oh we lack, we bleed
I’m weak, I see
Knowledge is only power when you move your feet
All poems about the truth seem the same
Self-righteous
I understand
Just because I know I may hurt a man
Is it enough to push me to take my own hand
Because I know the truth to be trite
When the truth be told do I run from the fight.
So say it anyway.