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The truth about Ruth…
Describe to me something…?
Such, as…? Well, any old thing
You want; but make it true.
Else, I’ll only come to rue’
A lie, if it were told as truth.
Say, didn't you love a girl called Ruth?
I, did but she was headstrong,
So, I couldn’t dare belong,
Or even think to her; now, could “I”
And whys that then do reply…?
Truth, be said, I was shabby and shy.
She, seemed more than earthly,
Rode horse back at; weekends early.
Where is she “now” then?
She’s been long gone. Since… when?
Oh, these last twenty years I guess
Like I said; she, was more than earthly.
Let’s get back to what I said:
Describe to me something…?
Such, as…? Well, any old thing
You want; but make it true.
Else, I’ll only come to rue’
A lie, if it were told as truth.
poem
by
Mark Heathcote
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