Try never to get caught in a lie to yourself
If you like being the picture of perfect mental health.
The invisible fib that you've built your house on
Will vanish the moment you call it in question
And down will come house with its roof laid in dreams.
The hearts of your babies will be gouged out by beams.
Crumpled in rubble you'll struggle to move
To piece back together your house of untruth.
But, what will you stitch your shack upon now
That your face has grown ugly and your God's out of town?
May I venture forth a firm basement floor,
Or some lies that I like for strong basement walls?
When know-it-all strangers ask what I stand for
I tell them, "Knowledge is power and love conquers all."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment