He was looking for the answers.

Not for money, nor for fame.

Not brought down by love or cancers.

So informed by guilt and shame.

He lied about so many things.

Just to keep them on their toes.

The rich, they yacht. The poor they sing.

The lies are everybody knows.

Some said he was a poet.

Some said he was insane.

But they could never know it.

What was running through that brain.

He was looking for some answers.

Not for money or for fame.

Not brought down by love or cancers.

Not informed by guilt or shame.

There’s such a quiet in the morning.

It’s just a silent cooling still.

It’s hard to know what is a warning.

When you’ve calmed that urge to will.

Dennis Mantin