To Tell the Truth

The town had seen better days

Where the buildings stood tall with windows

that were transparent and clean and along the sidewalks 

I felt safe by the enormous oak trees;

for their roots reached far into the rich earth. 

On warm days in town the doors remained open

where patrons passed through with ease in conversation.

A few blocks away from the most enduring building in town 

a mighty bridge spanned, footing to foundation and the waters below it 

were still and smooth 

In the dark the lights from above shown in perfect reflection

upon it’s watery glass.

In Sunday school class we once studied David and Goliath and how 

a small stone brought down the great giant.

Later the young boy, David, turned king 

was destroyed. His downfall was his own deceit, hypocrisy

and fraud. 

My town that once stood anchored,

was brought down by something that began small;

a half truth, a cheat or a candy-bar taken but then those

pocket-sized pollutions grew into a destructive disease.

Dishonesty’s choking hands seeped through the doors and 

polluted it’s reflective waters. The air chilled and the 

doors slammed shut. The windows were no longer

clear, but were covered in grime and no one dare risk to peer in.

The soaring trees lost their foliage and their roots shrunk to

the concrete surface searching for life. 

One tree, one of the most beautiful 

in the line fell with a great clatter, and no one 

cleared that tree, so it remained toppled and all 

around it, the town began to crumble.

And the bridge, the joining groundwork of the town,

remained empty for no one

had the confidence to cross over.


rebecca frazier