The Time for Truths
He begins to stink and rot, whilst lying on the tile.
Eyes wide, face veiled in snot and bile.
His crooked broken smile
Beckoning; fall victim to his guile.
The product of you and I,
A wicked manifestation of the first shared sigh.
Tenderly we grew him, yet now his end is nigh.
This thing we made... I think I'll name him Lie.
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