The truth is rarely spoken

We all prefer to lie

We'd rather live unfettered

Than tell the truth, and die.


They say it hurts; how bitter

Is honesty, to some.

Can truthfulness be tempered

Or should we just stay dumb?


How easily the words come;

The flattery, the flowers

Of kindness; insincerity

Instilling magic powers.


What matter, if in friendship

Those others we deceive?

As long as to our own souls

We say things we believe.

The End

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