Truth
is like
a twig,
So full
of grace,
But
so easily
broken,
By lies.
Lies
that
are invisible
to the
eyes,
Until
they
sweetly
tickle
the mouth
Of their
creator,
Becoming
ugly,
gnarled
branches,
That
puncture
the
mind
And
leave
the soul,
Nothing
but A
broken
bough.
