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
I bought the truth, but at a price,
For then, I found out what you thought;
I also see, to my regret,
There’s no returning what I bought
There is a wisdom we can know
That only sadness does confer;
I bought the truth, the price was steep —
The years I lost
In loving
Her
(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
I love her when she has no makeup on
I think, those times, I love her best of all
She is most beautiful before the dawn
The creeping wakefulness of hours small
I love her when her voice is soft and low
I think, those times, her voice I love the best
A sound most wonderful when sweet and slow
A song will rise from deep within her chest
As deep within my chest, my heart will say
I love her when
She’s with me
Every
Day
Her husband left her, telling her that he
Just couldn’t go on anymore this way;
And so, in shock, still reeling from it, she
And our grandson are with us for a stay
And she – she cannot look me in the eyes,
Afraid that she will break completely down;
And when this fact I did at once surmise,
I backed away – but I am still around –
She fears to let the tears completely go
With her young son so very, very small;
And she her full attention turns to him,
To try to make some sense out of it all
My daughter, oh, I’d rip out my own heart
To ease the pain that’s just about
To start
I like to dedicate this piece
To all my favorite blogs;
Which if you’re reading this,
Is prob’ly yours
I’d recommend your reading
All the many blogs I do:
They’re worth exploring,
Taking reading tours
I used to go at times for days,
No honest interaction:
Nobody ever saying
What they feel
But now I have before me
Many people’s secret thoughts;
A small oasis of
The true and real
So thank you now for sharing
Words that may be hard to speak
With people you encounter
Every day
I’m grateful for the chance,
Although I’m unlikely to meet you;
To hear the things
You really want
To say
I don’t think she wants to know the truth
Like a loaded pistol in his hand
Everything she worked so hard to build
Crumbling around like so much sand
So she tries to vainly turn away
And against the truth her ears to seal
Thinking, like the girl that she was once
If she doesn’t hear it, it’s not real
She looked all through her house, but couldn’t find,
The thing that she had lost, but didn’t know:
That last small shred of truth, a piece of mind,
Or peace of mind, she lost so long ago
She walked out to the sound of marching bands,
The wild reveling was in full force;
The oh-so-sure were locked and holding hands,
Implacable and set upon their course
She searched the streets to find smallest trace,
That maybe that one shred had come to rest:
But with each tromping foot and eager face,
She knew that it must finally be confessed
That maybe truth has had its final day —
The last small shred of truth
She’d thrown away
Reality I do not want to see.
For I will find there, staring back at me,
A man with questions he will never ask;
A father who has failed his only task
