Poem a Day doesn't always want to write a poem.
He feels forced to write something dishonest,
Like a white lie
Or not mentioning what’s really there.
It’s a lie of omission,
Skirting the issue by talking cryptically,
But letting those in the know,
Know it’s the same old thing
That I have no answers for,
That keeps coming round,
Like a whirlpool sucking me in.
And you can be cryptic to.
You can “like” the post
Which doesn’t really mean you like it,
But that you get it, at least a little,
And I can sigh and you can sigh with me,
And then we can move into the new day.
No comments:
Post a Comment