Game Show

Our reckless games of truth or consequence
Challenge us to prove we’re worth our salt,
But we discover little that makes sense.

As kids, in teenage fantasy-existence,
How we frolicked in our starry vault
Of reckless games!  Of truth or consequence,

We had no knowledge or experience.
We were too young and it was not our fault
That we discovered little.  That makes sense,

But now we’re grown and still we’re too intense.
We crave the same entwinement we assault.
It’s reckless: games of truth or consequence

Backfire and leave us sulking in our tents.
We’ve probed and analyzed this to a fault
And still discovered little that makes sense.

Someday we’ll build a bridge across this fence,
Plant an insight, reap the grace to halt
Our reckless games of truth or consequence,
Discovering a little that makes sense.

Melanie Houle

If you have any comments on this poem, Melanie Houle would be pleased to hear them.

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