A Little White Lie
If someone is hurt,
By the truth you reveal,
Were, the wounds engendered,
Will take time to heal,
Might it be better,
To spin a white lie,
To spare them from blushing,
And heaving a sigh.
Or perhaps you revel,
In the pain that you cause,
Or maybe in haste,
You neglected to pause,
You unburdened yourself,
Without thought or ill will,
But a soul is now suffering,
From your bitter pill.
Has truth to be always,
A statement of fact?
Or should it be subject,
To thought and to tact?
Should it always be open,
For public approval,
Once out of the bag,
It precludes its removal.
Words hurt like stones,
When rumour's abound,
And can hurt just as much,
If you believe they are sound!
The half truths, and fake truths,
Like wildfire are spread,
But you know they are evil,
You have been misled.
Copyright © Damian Cranney | Year Posted 2022
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