It often begins with a little white lie
Words that pop out of the mouth,
Unexpectedly, unbidden
Seemingly for no reason at all,
Out one pops
Whoops ….
Told a lie.
What is the point of lying?
You always slip-up in the end.
Sooner or later
When time has passed
The lies will surface
And then,
Whoops ….
They bite you
In places most painful.
Then more lies
Will tremble
On the lips,
Fibs and evasions
Growing proportionally
In strength
And consequence
With the telling.
Never lie, Tell the truth ….
Always
Cannot comply….
Because I’m dumb.
Janet Stoyel is a newly Practicing Wordsmith. After a long career in Textiles, Janet now focuses her attention upon Creative Writing. Janet writes for the pure appreciation and joy found in language: in letters: words, sentences. Janet is Dyslexic She chooses, organises, weaves, and constructs, her written vocabulary into her distinctive freeform language.
Janet lives in a small Somerset Village in the UK. It is a sleepy, rural area of Wetlands noted for the growing of Willow and the making of baskets – a great place to write!
Oh how talented you are. I enjoyed reading your poetry.