Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Last Poem to No One

If I could have afforded
The honesty and the time,
I would have summed life
By writing The Book of Lies.

The world needs some truth-telling
About our untruths,
And who better to tell it
Than a pathological

Liar? It's too bad
I won't live to tell the truth
About why and how I lied,

The truth of all lies,
Sitting idly in the moonlight
Just before dawn in the lake.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.