White Lie

The not-true that may from lips spring And in nearby and far-off ears ring; Usually saving an innocent skin, Scarcely for this reason a sin; With usable sounds and alphabets The trapped setting free from nets: The midwives avowals to infanticide pharaoh To reverse a male child murder show Our false assurances to The-Much-Worried About their Now-Dead-Once-Sick So that they too wont be buried From the wounds of the truth we lick…. From a wise wife of an alcoholic To his friends visiting for a frolic, Hundred percent sure that he was indoors, Of his having just left for a good cause: A timely frustration of killing glasses of whisky Or the throat-burning gin no less risky: From the heavens, Gods wave of Approving Hands His singers angels, eyes for their bands.