Thursday, March 7, 2019

Trust But Verify?

It's not that I know folks' intentions
and choose to distrust them instead.
The tip of the tongue cannot tell you
What manner of state rules the head.
We're all writing poetry by flashlight,
But they won't have the lights when it's read—
and that goes for the upright and honest,
Merely misunderstood or misled.
What of those who would greet you like family,
and under their breath wish you dead?
They slither like snakes through the office,
But sleep unperturbed in their beds.

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