I'll show you a little lie that I've hidden in my pocket.
I'm not broken, oh, no, not me.
Do you see this smile?
The one sewn there, with silver thread?
It's only part of the lie.
Then there's the tape recorder in my purse.
If you push 'play' you'll hear laughter.
That was me once, I used to laugh, but not anymore, it hurts like a sucker punch.
Do you promise not to tell anyone?
Please?
I don't want people to know and take advantage of me.
I'm not broken, just patched together with that silver thread and an ivory needle.
Is that truly a lie?
I'm not broken, oh, no, not me.
Do you see this smile?
The one sewn there, with silver thread?
It's only part of the lie.
Then there's the tape recorder in my purse.
If you push 'play' you'll hear laughter.
That was me once, I used to laugh, but not anymore, it hurts like a sucker punch.
Do you promise not to tell anyone?
Please?
I don't want people to know and take advantage of me.
I'm not broken, just patched together with that silver thread and an ivory needle.
Is that truly a lie?
welcome,
ReplyDeletebeautiful thoughts on lies,
you rock.
A++
love it! here's my potluck http://fiveloaf.wordpress.com/2010/01/25/paper-scribbles/
ReplyDeleteGreat take on lying to others and perhaps to oneself. The tiny font is a bit difficult to read for us over 40s though (for me, at least!)
ReplyDelete