Poetry

She seemed so decent,
she seemed so kind.
Only time told the truth of it
and quite nearly took my mind.

Naive to such depths of deception,
despite my grey and my lines.
Her favourite pet a chameleon,
she too changed colour at times.

And with those many changes of hue,
were bizarre dips into her lost youth,
reaping little more than shades of blue,
abandoning the last vestiges of truth.

Cans and bottles, long papers and pills,
way beyond my capacity to take or comprehend,
those tales from work and whispers of ills,
not only jobs gone, but finally lost friends.

Take the money, and all your future lies,
no more need to keep those pretences up,
I've had an over full belly of surprise,
just be sure to pack your magic poisoned cup.

Release!

©Rhumour
May 2006