If everything was made of crystal glass
how much more careful we would likely be.
Before the world our thoughts would clearly pass
and that then thus dissolves mendacity.
Scheming, plotting, inwardly concocting
snares, wars, ruses, any subterfuges
all exposed for all to see, erupting
lays bare road-to-nowhere posing stooges.
Yet if of glass we all were cleanly made
the ones resentful of the clarity
would soon go on a shatt’ring escapade
and thus would reign again barbarity!
But still, despite my body’s opaque form,
I’ll make my heart’s transparency the norm.
© 2012, Alan Morrison