Our Lies Find Us Out
“Promises are piecrusts; made to be broken;”
at least, it’s what Stalin once said;
a despot, whose words were token;
he and his promises are dead.
Only truth should come from our mouth;
anything else, is merely a lie;
all of our lies shall soon find us out;
the very moment we die.
Why must we say; what we don’t mean;
don’t we understand what is truth;
all our dishonesty diminishes the dream;
how can we become so aloof?
Some show little regard for punctuality;
although, being late is a lie;
it seems we’ve lost all sight of reality;
saying hello; meaning goodbye.
Why do we tell someone we miss them;
when we hold them in so little regard;
or, when we even hug them and kiss them;
we’ll soon be hoisted by our own petard.
Often we say things to make others feel better;
causing our guilt to build up, inside;
a lie, we tell, becomes a tight fitting sweater;
saying hello; when we mean goodbye.
We think our lies are unheard and unseen;
not knowing what absolute truth is about;
and so, we go on, just living our dream;
in heaven; be sure; our lies find us out.
Monty 2/27/24. # 2,026