the truth
we don't always tell the truth, no matter how much we want to
our mouths spew forth versions
that taste, oh, so sweet
far too often,
it dulls the bitterness left behind
we string together melodies
to tickle their ears
with pleasantness
to cover the screech of violins
permanently donned poker faces
and carefully crafted bluffs
hides our losing hand
in a game not worth winning
masters of distraction and illusion
pulling white rabbits out of hats
and making parts of it
disappear right before their eyes
and at this point in our history,
we aren't capable of telling it
every moment of every day
to them or to ourselves
About the Creator
Alexandria Stanwyck
My inner child screams joyfully as I fall back in love with writing.
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instead of therapy: poetry and lyrics about struggling and healing is available on Amazon.
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Comments (1)
That's a great poem. Unfortunately we do have to tell white lies every now and then