Lies One word, sweet honey Like poison drips off Your tongue numb – But it was just one word. One sentence, and then Golden palaces fill the air Still that sour taste lingers But it was just one sentence. One small story, it can’t hurt Build a world to call your own The sour taste is gone now, ‘cause – It was just one story. One slight slip, they stare at you “That’s not what you said before,” They declare. Your heart pounds “I must have been wrong,” you say quickly. Safe. But slips grow larger Cracks fill your world, careful! – Don’t step on one. Your world could crash And burn. Now it’s gaping holes, you leap Past, trying not to fall into. Slick palms, Racing heart, stomach knots, just another Average day, managing to slip past the bombs. All good things must come to ends, though, As one day you slip and tumble into the cavernous abyss. Screaming for help and begging forgiveness, Faces turn away. “You lied,” they say. “We trusted you, but now… I don’t know,” as friends leave. One by one, and they’re gone, leaving you To crawl out alone Shredded palms, torn from the splintered rock Looking down, you see – your clothes Not the elegant gowns and robes they once were, But frayed and tattered, old and worn. Looking around, naught but pillars lying in the dirt And cracked, broken stones that built your life In the distance, the beautiful bell tower that never rang Is gone, fallen with all the rest. Sad, you bend down and touch the dust that held your world Gone. Everything you’d made is crushed, Nothing left but ruins of has been’s that were never there If only you hadn’t done it – but you did. Slowly you clean up and clear a spot Where your new world will be. This time, though Not so brilliant but the truth As it really is, not as you knew they wanted It will take longer this time Nobody willing to see even the humble town you build But it’s all you have left, for Your own mistakes built a palace and tore it down Now all that shines through is real. Standing in the sunlight, you look and see It doesn’t glitter or sparkle anymore, but – Somehow it is better than a thousand palaces that never existed. |