The Mad Gift of Truth

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How mad it is to seek the truth?

To dig below the surface of the world as it is presented
A world manufactured in the factory of big business
Packaged with the protection of big government
Gift wrapped by big media
With a pretty little bow from the entertainment industry

This beautifully prepackaged, preplanned, premeditated gift of a world
Is not the world

Not the real world

The real gift of a world is built by the blood and sweat of our foremothers and fathers
Packaged in the blistered skin of feet mile worn in fields
Of calloused hands worked to the bone
Wrapped in the gifted words handed down by those mad men who had refused the prepackaged world

But there is no bow ribbon on a gift of truth
The real world is not a present under a plastic tree
It not received on a birthday from well-meaning relatives
UPS will not make you sign for a delivery of truth

You have to seek it out like a mad man buck naked in the street
Exposed to the ridicule of people with gift wrapped eyes
A mad man with his truth exposed shouting at the world
Not caring that package has no bow on it

It is that mad gift of mud covered words that mad men throw at the world
It is that muddied gift of truth that rids the world of prepackaged evil
No silk ribbon holds a gift that is precious to life

It is only the words of people once considered mad that truth is learned

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