What's the truth?
Your version skews
so much to the side,
I wonder
in what world
your imagination resides?
Where your lies
lay in perfect harmony,
sleeping peaceful.
through the storms
that you ride.
I know my truth.
It's beating within.
I am not without sin,
but I'd never cast stones,
nor sling shot
my past glass
transgressions.
Whereas your concocted words.
are wearing extremely thin.
The lies you tell
seem so snide,
designed to cut a hole
and reach deep inside.
Pulling a lie from within,
like a magician making
a rabbit appear from his hat.
Carrot held in its cheesy grin.
You slide through twisting
vocabularies, you duck and dive
over sporting fields of the mind
on which you a pro. One nil to you,
and I'm struggling to gather
enough energy to even reply.
For you, It's all about the win,
even if the truth you are telling
isn't the real thing.
It's enough if it leaves me dwelling,
on what words are true,
and which ones are made up
to make me believe you.
Behind fabrications,
you lie,
it’s just imitation
of a forgotten sigh.
Snakelike tongue
striking the air.
Inventions inviting us into
wherever it is you mind goes,
its vicious vipers lair.
Corrupted waters taste the lies,
dripping into their uneven tides.
Slyly doing what it is that you accuse,
Thanks for reading.
taken from the #escapril prompt
"What's the truth?"
Please take a few moments
to check out my new book "Poetic Outlaw"
available from Amazon
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CVQ5F9K8/
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