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The lies, that are truth, are mostly impulses that change the shades of our society.
Smile, as the metaphor, objectivity laid.
I crossed the sentence, of the truth and lie.
Call me, reward me, thou lie was not perfect.
The truth took turn today, and laid next to the lie.
While the lie laid naked to the bare of my truth.
I lied,
I know,
I did it not on purpose.
If You let me explain.
I won’t lie, or will,
this time.
I am sorry.
That is not a lie.
Whoever lies, end up in the truth,
My Dear,
reader.
Somehow.
Style / type:
Structured: Eastern
Review Request (Intensity):
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction):
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage:
Content level:
Not Explicit Content
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Comments
Triskelion
Sat, 2022-08-27 15:48
An enigma...
...a puzzle, a quandary. .....Refreshing.....
I'd like to see a shorter title, maybe "lies are truth...somehow"
Language is good enough to understand the subject. It makes me think of what a dishonest person might think about when trying to get to sleep. Trying to rationalize the absurd.
The internal logic is entertaining in it's own fleeting way and I enjoyed it.
It's a really good subject and this draft is worth pursuing.
Thomas
.
.
...so like my lost dreams...the flood