Even to myself, I am the narrator who shades
The truth, the man whose word is good as shit,
The trafficker in rumors, suppositions, false
Conspiracies; whatever helps me make my way
Among the well-intentioned, better-natured, more
Accomplished people always looming over me.
To what end would I offer candor? To be scorned,
To be named knave? I couldn't get by being honest,
With myself, much less those others. I must,
Even now I do it, shade the ugly truth.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 37 times
Written on 2019-12-04 at 01:15

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text