The truth tastes terrible

I guess the appeal is control,
Of mind, body, and soul,
They rarely heed my command,
But with words on paper, sometimes I feel like Superman,
Maybe I'm extra-terrestrial,
Fictional and abysmal,
When my pen begins to leak,
I don't know what to convey until our ancestors start to speak,
Then I read what I wrote and think, "d@#n that's too deep!"
We gotta dial it back to reach the sheep,
Boil and distill down the real to make it simple and weak,
We try to serve knowledge to the old and the youth,
But nobody wants to drink the bitter truth.