20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers

Truth and Lies

A lie is really not a lie
when it comes from
someone else’s truth,

for then it is so real
one can no longer tell
the difference,  unless

of course, it becomes the Truth,
and overpowers other truths,
for then those truths become

the lies, and the Truth proliferates
and grows, while lies take refuge
underground and Truth abounds

throughout the land, until the day
that lies again become the truth
and liberate the holy earth

©SpiritLed 2014




He would trace the jagged map of cracks
smeared plaster wall aside his bed,
his ashen memory of their life imagined
‘How, how did it ever come to this?’

The signs were there trust and naive heart
believing every little late night lie,
the bills a bed and their sick calico Jane
‘Reasons? I don’t owe you anything!’

Now his grieving heart blindly traces cracks
blinds drawn closed on the summer day,
the life imagined all his dreams gone hush
‘How, how did it ever come to this?’

written April 2013


Poison invades my veins
I’m in your bed, my skin hurts

are you my poison, I refuse to
believe, I clamber to my feet

I take aboard your lies, touch my face
all is forgiven the poison that entered

is forgotten

caress my skin say how you love me
you are the boy that is my lover

I ingest what you tell me, pretend
it’s me that you love

there is no anti-venom

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Soft petal of the fallen flower…

A soft petal of the fallen flower

still spreads its fragrance

soon it is going to dissolve in earth

die and get buried, as we say it

but don’t forget- a new life will spring up

here where the fallen flower lies

with its soft petal which is

spreading its last bit of fragrance.

What lies I tell myself daily…

Wondering what lies I tell myself daily

The lies I say to myself so consistently

The lies that I have adopted as truth

Lies that are going to remain lies

Even though I lie about my lies

I say the truth I think which are the lies

The lies I say are the truth I say to myself

Wondering what lies I tell myself daily

I think I lie every moment to myself

I say the truth which must not be a lie

But I think it is a lie anyhow

Which is a truthful lie I say to myself.


What I’m left with is Me…

It seems someone is angry at me

It seems someone has forgotten me

Both these feelings are now beyond any repair

I am now a part of someone’s hatred

But that doesn’t hurt me any more

For this is what I deal with everyday

A new foe comes by, unwanted and even sometimes unknown

An old friend ends the tie just like that

And sometimes even come out to be the new hater

Of my being

I never speak

I never talk

I never complain

I never speak those silly lies

Neither do I hope for those who are gone to come back

But why did they go in such a rush?

Leaving behind me in the bustle I could never be a part of

What I’m left with is me

I am my best friend

I am my worst enemy.


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