Photo by Morgue File © 2015
Liar, Liar (A Sonnet)
The sun bows to you in grand
reception,
Falling prey to your charms, walking
through fire,
Caught in your wicked web of deception
while you smile… pathological liar.
What’s your excuse, were you dropped
on your head
Or pinched by forceps in your great
escape?
Unleashing demons ‘til the world has
bled;
The bile on your tongue tastes like
sour grapes.
Say what you will, for nobody believes
Your rhetoric. Here’s a word to the wise:
Your crimes are far worse than beggars
and thieves.
Your half-truths are the most cowardly
lies.
You refuse to live by the golden rule…
But six feet of earth make us all
equal.
Colleen Keller Breuning © 2015
October 20, 2015
