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★★★★★ (4)
Rated: E · Poetry · Psychology · #1267780

A poem about the qualities of perfect lies.

Perfectly formed they drip steadily
like dew drops on Autumn morns.
Breathtaking in appearance of sincerity,
brain-biting as the truth dawns.

Precisely planted to wreak havoc.
Almost naive, almost innocent
untouchable like shadow on a rock.
Almost truths just a little bent.

Wired into place like bonsai branches
twisted into the shape of truth.
Appealing to the senses like oranges,
dripping, streaming smoothe.
© Copyright 2007 Cheryl O'Brien (wollemi_poet at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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