Really? (Part II)

And so I spent the next 12 months
Behaving in this way:
With every girl I’d meet I’d have
Almost nothing to say

Which made me strangely popular
More than I’d ever been;
I was never myself, but thought,
“Girls don’t want that from men.”

But suddenly, I met someone
Who did the same to me;
I called it out – a tactic –
And she smiled that I could see

“Most men like to talk about
Themselves, I’ve always found.”
And it was hard to argue
For her reasoning was sound

I mentioned that I usually
Found women just the same.
And both of us were laughing
That we both played the same game

And suddenly I liked her
And I think that she liked me
And she told me the truth
And got my fullest honesty

She was a stunning actress
With a fabulous career;
And the few weeks she was around
I always was sincere

And showed my human weakness,
But – I loved that time back then;
And swore I’d never ever
Be a fake with girls again

POSTSCRIPT

Alas, for frail humanity
At least, alas for mine:
I did the best I could, I guess,
And most the time was fine

But it’s hard to be honest, when
You struggle, image-wise:
And when the person that your with’s
More comforted
By lies

Sequential

Many things come in a sequence,
We learn this while very young;
It’s not just letters,
It’s an alphabet —

Like night leads into day,
And spring to summer, fall to winter;
These patterns we can see
And don’t forget

Except, I think, the type of sequence
Called “a consequence”;
This type of thing we often
Don’t recall

Like knowing that lies lead to lies
And distrust, once uncovered;
And that self-centered pride
Leads to a fall

Pretty Lies

I hide the truth, but I’ve some pretty lies
Wrapped up here in some packages for you —
You’re welcome to come get them any time;
It really is the least that I can do.

For doing but my least is my new thing;
I sing these happy songs of fantasy —
Please take a pretty lie before you go:
The truth’s wrapped up and trapped
Inside of
Me

The Cult of Excuses

(A cult we join when we’re too young to realize what we’ve done. – Owen)

I was welcomed in the fold
When I was but twelve years old
All I had to do was prove
Worthy of the honor

Sent out on an errand blind
Frightened nearly out of mind
Scared to run and scared to move
Thought I was a goner

Still I did the deed as planned
Met their every last demand
Stood there underneath their gaze
Steeled for their abuses

But then they seemed satisfied
For when pressed, I merely lied
I’d entered the final phase
The Cult of Excuses

Join the cult, and you’ll discover
None a friend, and all a lover
Just one goal, to keep it going
To prolong the chase

Forty years I can recall
With excuses for them all
You don’t join, and there’s no knowing
How much truth you’ll face

Carolina Sunset

And now, she sees the Carolina sunset
In blue and orange stripes across the sky;
She’ll now admit, what she’s known from the onset,
The life that she’s been living is a lie

She never loved the husband that she married,
She has a job she doesn’t want at all;
The love back in her past she thought she’d buried –
He’s come back from behind denial’s wall

But what she doesn’t know, is he’s a liar;
He has three other women here and there,
And while she’s thinking that their love’s a fire,
He’s just about to finish their affair

So lies blend into lies and make our fates;
This is the way we humans choose
Our mates

Book of Lies

The book of lies you wrote, she read;
She knew it all by heart.
She measured every lie, until
The whole thing fell apart.

The lies you’ve written tell a tale
You don’t know’s at an end:
But if at last
You don’t succeed
You’ll still
Lie, lie
Again

A Necessary Marinade

I often find that stories
Lose their flavor
In telling them. The good
That we might savor

Or bad flavors get lost
There, in the telling;
And we send scents not those
That we were smelling.

And so, to tell the truth
I lie a lot:
For storytelling needs
A certain shot

Of falsehood marinade,
Therein to baste –
So others, then, will know
The selfsame
Taste

= = = = =

(In response to a Daily Post prompt.)