the truth is just below the surface

scratch a little and you will stir it up

swells up like a fountain when you have the courage to sweep it off

you look at it puzzled, because it has never changed

just your vain attempts to hide it, in the pouring rain

like having and umbrella that has a few holes

works if you hold it just right until the wind blows

then despite you valiant efforts you end up soaking wet

and you wonder why you’ve kept it………..because it was a gift

but over time things loose their luster and repair isn’t worth the cost

comes a time in everyone’s life to separate the silver from the dross

i’m there