The truth is not so pretty,
it's neither easy, nor it's bright.
The truth will strike in anger,
will blind the darkness into sight.
The truth is am a coward
to blame and curse in spite,
despite of my own power
as I say I'm alright.
The truth is I am a housewife
with no flame left to ignite,
discarding my true calling
as I become polite.
The truth is I'm a looser
much to my own delight,
discarding my own nature
as I give up the fight.
The truth is I'm an actor
caught up in sheer stage fright,
oblivious of bravery
as I protest my might.
The truth is I'm dependant
depending on the knight
who sheds he's shining armour
as I hold on so tight.
The truth is I'm a liar
drunkin' rhyming through the night
discarding my own poem
as I turn off the light.
To my sister, the gifted truth digger
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