Prevaricator
Even to myself, I am the narrator who shadesThe 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
Read 109 times
Written on 2019-12-04 at 01:15
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