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Prevaricator
From high upon a pedestal i write-
Weak and in total disbelief i cry-
My eyes- like slits shutting out the blinding light of day-
While whispers of the real truth-uncover your lie;
The windows to your soul-they fooled me...
Hidden well within the covers of our time...
Unlike the clay molded into a most perfect form...
'Twas covered by the snow of the Winter rhyme;
Exhaustion set in overwhelming me...
The evenings menacing darkness just creeps-
As a ship upon stormy waters with torn sails-
The whispers of the true you takes away my sleep;
Lost in a collage of your lies...
Thrown in a mighty sea of stormy waves...
Totally taken in by your every word...
An unaccepted life not worthy to even save;
Too complacent and naive i had become-
Altered by lives- haves and have nots...
Confused and abused by the sinister of liars...
It is for the real truth i have fought;
I pray every day for the next person that you fool-
Not to be taken in literally with your every word...
Open their eyes so as not to be blind to you...
Open their ears-so that your every word is heard;
Dedicated to: A very early broken love experience
Back in Seattle. I was totally taken in.
poem
by
Theodora Onken
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