The sins of snakes for Dad

He moves through life thinking he's smart,
A snake in the grass, whispering lies like they’re truths.
He's not a religious man; grew up Baptist, but he finds his sermons
In the art of deceit. He tells lies, and they shape his world,
And there he finds his ritual—this is my truth, and I give it up for you.

What is wisdom, but what we choose to believe? It's fitting we make our own.

As a child, I couldn’t understand why he always lied.
I couldn’t grasp the reasons behind his fake smiles,
Words sweet as honey, but his actions were like poison,
Hurting me in ways I couldn't see.

I prayed for him; not for me, but for him—to free him from the lies
That ruled his life—amen. I thought, maybe wrongly,
That if I loved him enough, his sins could be forgiven,
If I believed in him like he believed in his own lies.

You can’t argue someone out of their beliefs. You can only see the truth or be fooled.

I follow the path of lies, learning from him, and I wonder;

Could I have saved him if I’d been wiser,

Or is this our only fate?

A family creed holding us close, worshiping one idol—

The sin of our snake.