Alone at the Table

Alone at the Table

I sit alone at the table of truth.
There's no food and no words in this fable.
The people who mingle and mull all about me,
They remind me of cows in a stable.
They don't speak volumes.
They're chewing their cuds.
They're words are beyond comprehension.
As soon as I open to speak a new phrase,
I'm assailed.
I'm accused of pretension.
One day I'll get up.
One day I'll arise from the table.
But my fear is the thing that I fear the most.
Fear of the truth is the thing that I hide.
I'm stuck in the barn as are all of the rest,
My thoughts just a matter of pride.