Truth was a scolding sun and lies were the chilled alleys,
You could melt from the heat or you could hide in the corners of the dark,
lurking, waiting, creeping….waiting on them….
They don’t want the truth, the unfiltered,
the raw, the reckoning it could bring,
The lights it would shine on the dark hidden lies
that were swept in the corners of the musty room
and between the cracks of their fractured masks,
Truth is the expiration date on the long-spoiled ingredients
of a half-baked lie
fed to fill the belly of a sickly green beast
They would rather a comfort, a blanket, a shield,
the feeling of successful avoidance
and its welcoming embrace to those who will never deny it,
Let it wash away the stains of those
with the red-stained hands and silence the deafening guilt
wracking their heads, clawing at the walls of their brain,
Screeching echoes of pained yells that’ll never matter much
when you’ve mastered shutting it out,
making it invisible, muted, distant, ghostly
Lies were the cool drink or hot tea
that wet the tongue and soothed the throat
of a shaded green beast masked by a shiny exterior
blinding the world and its every-seeing eyes to see the truth,
Lies were easy pills to swallow because they came
how you liked, chew-able, or crush-able,
you could swallow them whole,
the beast was well accustomed to that,
why shouldn’t they be?
That’s how they capture their prey
Langston Hughes is my favorite poet.
I hope to be a successful writer as well as successful in another undetermined field of work.
The adult who inspires me most would be my mom.