‘A truth denied is truth decried’,

I once heard some wise person say.

But what if truth is optional,

Or fuzzy-edged or ill-defined?

(The point seems rather underlined).

Then how differs fact from fiction

On this or any given day?

 

There is no future and no past;

It’s just a matter of control.

What has happened and will happen

Depend upon our latest whim

(The prospect may seem bleakly grim).

Each day the truth must be revised,

As must the values we extol.

 

They said that two plus two makes five;

But there’s one man who won’t agree.

And here's the catch: could he be sane?

If so, by default, we are mad

(So gullible and, also, sad).

No, that can never be the case;

We all know lying makes you free.