Danielle

Wonderful, Beautiful, Awful boy. Spill from your lips only lies With a smile and silver tongue You slowly make me come undone Unravel me with honeyed words And dark deceit that settles deep And grows from planted horrid seed Into tall and looming tree Roots so old and so far down That nothing can wrench it from the ground Plant in me a little lie To save your self from branches high, Of your own sapling of untruth. The ancient bark stands so high Your lies they almost touch the sky They cut the blue and orange hues, and prick the clouds as they float by. To bring the rain that waters down, and keeps the ugliness alive. Tell me now and tell me true If these warped words mean more to you Than I or any other truth? Would you hack and cut it down? Would you fell it to the ground? Would you speak and say aloud, the words you've never given sound. But no. No, the scene remains the same. No new song writ on pages wrought from your old wizened shame. Just branches of a tall, tall, tree that provide some selfish shade.