was taught that the truth
would always land winning blows
but lies are shadows
so impossible to strike
ends up just an exercise
lies
late arrival…
had you come here before
you would have found your soul
but life detours much of truth
sending many on journeys
that have no destination
sin added to sin…
first came the lying
next delusions based on lies
then treasonous acts
while calling the innocent
by your own name criminal
soliloquy of thought…
have to clear
my head
of
these empty conversations
for
there will be
no
communion
no
breaking
of
bread together
nor
sipping
of
the sacred wine
of
enlightenment
there will only be
the bitter vinegar
of
lies
thrust
into
the mouths
of
babes
when cadets know you lied….
how’s a liar walk
when confronted with truth’s ramp
small unsteady steps
don’t fool yourself…
lies always survive
they’re far from brittle or weak
they have solid steel shells
oh there’s nothing inside them
but most folks never see that
mother knows best…
her
maternal voice
mused
as if
telling a ghost story
warned
not
to unwrap
the white shroud
encasing
yesterday’s body
they should
accept
their personalized gospel
no need
to unravel
and
inspect
the blood stained
fabric
with
it’s
image
of
truth
why
risk
losing the ransomed lives
they’ve lived
ransom
so carefully
paid for
with
lies
paint by numbers kits for adults…
she
carefully removed
layers
of
the truth
replacing
each layer
with
a plausible
lie
one anchored
in her
own past
but
not necessary
true
of
the events
or
persons
being described
as
any good lawyer
might
do
during
their
bout
of storytelling
in
the courtroom
where
a murder
becomes
a victim
of
child abuse
or
a white-collar criminal
becomes
a
victim
of
the
system
it doesn’t have
to
be true
but
the story
must flow
and
engender
emotions
on
the part
of
the listener
in
favor
of
the storyteller’s tale
oh
and
a tears
or
two
would be useful
to complete
the
deceptive picture
american justice…
a beautiful box
with such intricate designs
but it is empty
acquired alzheimer’s …
tears welled
in
eyes
voice strong
but
dry
as if
reciting a prayer
saying
you’ve grown old
you cannot recall
childhood memories
silly games
gentle touches
bedtime prayers
or
laughter
into the night
it’s all
been clouded
by
guilt-full lies
but
as i die
my child
i swear
you’ve
not
heard
the truth
