Addressing bits of truth, In this age of managed publicity, Has since my youth Been a matter of building a legacy.
Thinking on one's feet On the slip of a slippery slope, Helps a man escape self-deceit, Even as he hangs from his last rope.
So much of this is perception, Formed as it is, often without facts. Devious moods practice their deception In a constant stream of senseless acts.
Some say the whole thing needs self-regulation, Because so much is hard to understand. It becomes a master of reputations. They are slaughtered by the corporate hand.
I stare quietly in the open declarative That more often than not, the truth is unknown. The best we can do is share our narrative Based on what we believe has been shown.
Responses given are made to questions measured With miles to go before there will be sleep. The organic nature of life isn't treasured Half as much as it runs incredibly deep.
The truth - as though there is only one - Is that bad days are seen more in life than good. Perceptions given pass off as the one-and-done, And life continues to be lived best as it is understood.
The morning news has become containment. The entertainment value is a matter of profit. And while it might lead to resentful arguments, If the ratings consent, then that's entertainment.
(c) October 1, 2025 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along