I stand at the brink of the well of truth
The waters of facts are filled to the top
It is like a mirror in its smoothness
And as I gaze back at my reflection
I see the real me, it frightens me.
Beneath the supposed innocence,
lies a hidden craftiness.
The water darkens, and
only a sliver of the moon above me shines bright.
I am far from extra-ordinary
But deep within me,
Lies the potential to scar.
Indeed naivety is often misjudged and undersold.
It is more often, than not
The innocent ones
Who are the causes of strife.
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