“Lying is easy. But it’s lonely.” (Victoria Schwab)
Refuge
Sand flecks at my heels,
Salt spray I can taste,
Wind storms batter my being,
I stand alone.
Out of place.
Left with lies to warm my face.
Books: of platitudes to soothe troubled waters,
Of loss.
Toddlers, drifted and tossed.
Laugh and the world laughs with you;
Cry and they turn their backs.
Rows of backs have faced me,
Turned as I walk passed.
My pockets empty,
But they want my past.
I don’t belong. They sing in–
Unison.
They picket my humanity.
I don’t belong. They sing in unison.
The lies I was told. There is no crimson or gold.
There’s little warmth; they just despise.
Whatever I receive, is it it dealt with heart?
Or lies?
Absolutely beautiful!
yes, this is gorgeous! really evokes the lonely feeling of lying.
A sad piece – its truth is compelling.