The truth can make
You feel like hell,
No matter what side
You are on.
The truth may not be
Something you want to say,
Nor something you want to hear.
Sometimes it feels better
To not tell the truth,
But you're damned if
You don't.
One lie, leads
To two lies, leads
To three lies, leads
To four lies, leads
To more lies, leads
To a tangled mess
You can no longer rely on.
Like a spider,
Eight eyes,
Always on the lookout
For a slip up.
Like a spider,
Eight legs,
Ready to grab any truth
That comes out.
But like many webs,
Once you think you're done,
One big comes flying in,
Shaking the work and
Later creating a hole,
Open for anyone's view,
And it doesn't stop there.
Next thing you know,
It's no longer perfect,
It's a confusing mess,
It's easy to spot the flaws,
It's easy to have a slip through,
No matter how hard you try to fix it.
It's there to prevent anyone
From see or getting the truth,
But in the end
That's not what you have,
Nor what you want.
It's easier to swallow one
In the short run,
But it's the long run,
That needs to be thought of.
So to prevent any issues,
Telling the truth is better,
Than spinning a web of lies.
YOU ARE READING
Poems and Lonesomes
ŞiirIf you think about it, a poem can have more than one meanings, a poem can have straight forward sillies, a poem can have twists and turns, a poems can say what you see and what you portray, a poem is a poem, read of you please, but always remembe...
