I’d Rather be Gatsby by Achala Gupta

The voice of the wrong
Is loud enough
To ensure that the voice
Of the right is completely
Strangled

To the voice that is already muffled
Opposed by the one that would
Leave us baffled
Bad bosses in corporates
Protester girls on streets
And lengthy jargonic tweets

The louder say
“I’m right, regardless”
Truth needs
Ears to see and eyes to hear
Reality is just a faint smear
Faulty senses never see it clear
Suppressed by fear
Pushed aside to save
What’s more dear

Truth is a second option
Brushed under the mattress of
“Socially sound” hypocrisy
And “Diplomacy”

I’d rather be Gatsby
As he rested in his coffin
With truth’s heart sobbing
If truth was a person
Her heart would be ripped apart
To watch truth’s child broken and bruised
Because maybe he wasn’t understood
Even after dying
But with the right he strived
And although he was cheated
He wasn’t the one cheating

But the epilogue chose him
Because he was the story narrated
Truth is forever contemplated
Although for truth tellers, truth is awaited

Yet,
It’s almost as if lies have replaced
An honest dialogue
Truth tellers retort to monologues
So many lies make it easy to forget reality

What would happen if we lied to each other?
And forgot all solidarity
With lies and distrust infiltrating
Here’s to the truth that’s dying
With truth tellers attending funerals
And paying their last tribute.

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