Doublespeak and Forked Tongues
© 12-19-2023, Olan L. Smith
Till I die, I will dance my truth.
Those who remain will declare
Their truth with lies, as is our ignorance.
There we go, over and over down
The hill, with dear Jack tumbling
After us, watch out for the pail of lies.
In darkened corners, the body snatchers win.
They steal our allegiance; coated
In sweet drops of honey, to make the lies go
Peacefully down our throats, so we
Crave more of 1984 on our plate.
The devil will not savor; he'll laugh.
Those who remain will declare
Truth as a lie, and it abides in our naivete.
We stumbled down the hill.
There we go, over and over down,
And dear Jack tumbles
After us, watch out for his pail of lies.
Beware of chinks in fortress walls, there live
The truth-snatchers, stealing our loyalty;
Varnishing evil with sweet drops of honey
So, the lies flow peacefully down
our throats, and we'll crave his long shaft.
The devil will not lick it; he'll just laugh.
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Bird's Eye
PoetryA new collection of poems written by Olan L. Smith starting 2023; all right's reserved.