Lies, lies, lies!
Ah the many that I invent
To save myself some pain
And anonymity
And the few that are white
To save my skin
Yet their need surprises me
They rule our existence
One you make up
Another few to substantiate the first
And then a few to mark your ignorance
Of the one intended
For the facts elude you
So why create them at all?
To meet an inherent need
Of being in utopia?
To fulfill desires that are scorned?
To mark your superiority,
To yourself in times of doubt?
The uses of lying!
Delusion, existence, inferiority?
Or some other need of man
The subject hasn’t yet discovered?
I am a connoisseur
My game past doubt
I delude myself
And the rest of humanity
With my sweet little anecdotes
Which never existed
They make me content
And I fight for them
Like I never do
For in some way
They define
My fears
And my need for recognition
As someone who can spin tales
And makes others laugh
Or sympathize
Ah the irony of life
It exhibits a new form
A compulsive liar
God forbid
My becoming one.