Truth? You Can't Handle The Truth

By John W. Fountain

So if I tell you my truth

And it tickles your ears

Relieves you of any guilt

Makes your consciences feel clear

Fills you with self-righteous indignation

Makes you point the finger

(Not over there)

But over here

Compels you to cheer:

“Preach, Brother Fountain…

Tell YOUR people the truth

They don't need Jesse or Al

They need to listen to YOU…”

But then, I flip the coinAnd speak my whole mindSay what it’s like to live in my black skinThen you claim I’ve lost my mindYOU say you no longer “respect” meTell me to ‘take a hike’Write to me with condescending paternalistic insultsTry and tell me what I should writeCall me “conceited”A pompous "N" word, riding arrogantly on my “high horse”Say I must not be who you thought I was…Not a “good Negro” who knows his place,But, of course
I shake my headChuckle at how racism makes some blindHow after centuries and centuriesThe most dangerous black man is still an educated oneWho articulately speaks his mind…How Truth is still a mighty double-edged swordTo be rejected by ignoranceWhen Truth offends the status quoAnd dissonant chords sound absurd
And yet, I play onI beat my drumWhether YOU hear me or notSpitting facts to fight the fictionAbout the history that has broughtMy people to our current conditionThe hard truths that can help us transitionTo a positionOf equalityRather than brutalityEven amid the realityThat YOU can’t handle the truth
For to look Truth squarely in the eyesYou’d have no recourse but to realizeYOU had a hand in our demise
For in TruthThere is no room for liesEven if a part of the truth tickles your earsOnly makes your consciences feel clearMakes you only point the finger over hereBut to the whole truthYou turn a deaf earSo I’ll play onAnd frankly my dear
I don't give a damn if YOU hear