your lies were small and white.
A tweaking of the truth
or an ommission of it.
But I didn’t realise
that your lies were changing colours,
and changing colours fast.
A few drops of secrecy
and the white became
The hue darkened
as your lies grew more malicious –
a threat to everything we had built together.
When you spoke,
I could see those lies bubbling out of your mouth –
now Roman silver.
And in blind faith
I chose to see but not to see.
Until the silver gave way
and the lies were dark as pewter.
I was fearful,
I tried to make excuses for you;
to undo your lies with my truth,
your apathy with my love.
Foolishly fighting for something
that was long gone.
– The Great Indian Hypocrite