Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
The trial
The trial Prosecution claimed black, defence argued white; prosecution said day, defence, it was night. Prosecution said cheap, defence said designer; prosecution serious, defence, only minor. Prosecution went big, defence wanted small; prosecution, deliberate, defence, not at all. Court heard both sides, playing role of the sleuth; somewhere in the middle, lay the actual truth.
Hobbo's Poems 
Sounds like a Queen song… almost. Can’t quite think. Anyway, seems like the court found a grey area.
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There are always three sides to a story; yours, mine and the truth!
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yes… thinking of human constructs… what is the truth? I have heard these types of things said before. And it’s true (lol casual use of the word there) that two people can attend exactly the same event and have totally different impressions and ideas about what occurred there. But is there a truth? Is there a single truth from their shared experience? It’s a fascinating problem to ponder.
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Now, there is a very deep question. Profound enough to drown a simple soul like me; I shall confer with Dauphy!
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Please do. 🙂
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👍 He’s asleep right now, but…
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When he wakes, tell him the question is giving me paws.
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Well, he is dogged!
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🙂
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… as is so often the case….
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Almost always!
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That’s nice
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