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Mythomaniac
The words stumble from her lying
Mouth while her obtuse mind struggles
For likely continuity.
In due course the lie emerges
Full-blown, ready for deceiving
An innocent, unsuspecting
Host singled-out as the target.
This pathological liar
Fabricates the fundamentals
In a way that’s favorable
To her in case she is challenged.
There is no motive to look for
Because there really isn’t one.
She must lie and she’s good at it.
poem
by
Albert Ahearn
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