honesty

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secrets like a tree torn of leaves,

each one a truth untold, even

the desperate grip of branches

could not stop the fall. sun stares,

demands honesty, reveals deceit

in her glare. his wooden arms

are no match for her golden gaze,

so all of it falls, half-truths and lies,

and he becomes bare, only bony

fingers of regret, reaching out,

as if she would forgive. she covers

her eyes in clouds and turns away.

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how we planned

Image

 

built on

ideas

of tomorrows

when

all the yesterdays

are blind

we plan

draw visions

of hope

in pencil, on

flimsy paper

that afternoons fade

and rains run

crumple

ripped dreams

days end

faded know

things don’t

always

work out

how

we

plannedÂ