deceit's receipts -
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the breadth of breaths a breast can heave
dark depths so delved as falsehoods leave
from tongues, the tangled webs we weave
that trap our own good wills
though false, how fast it fills
and how that kindness kills …
sweet sentience, sent with sense, descends
love's fondness found when friendship ends
thoughts, tender, flamed to fire from friends
on words, deceitful, breaking
all hearts, so prone to aching
while passions pass as faking …
pressed past what passed as fast and bound
the festooned farce that hearts would hound
found dreams and deeds the doubt to drown
amidst the rambling brambles
the flimflam scam in shambles
to seed a greed that gambles …
the dreaming, damned, should cram with doubt
their tares, turned, torn from thorns that flout
those prickled sticks, stuck through and stout
milled phrases, grand and golden
so feigned and drained, beholden
staged rages, gauged and olden ...
through trust, the thrust of thoughts is through
those toughest troughs, though thorough, too
thoughts fraught with falsehoods, brought anew
will shed their virtues, fraying
the ways that weigh decaying
far faster than they're saying …
truth lost, lest lies left praying
were prayers precisely playing
for death's last breath, obeying
it's own ... it's own ... it's own.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Completely New 20, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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