Why Few Things Please Us More Than Lies-I

My hair's turned grey and gone has wisdom tooth, I'm no more a could not care callow youth, Yet, not so I know makes me enough wise As to why few things please us more than lies. Why pens portray shadowy truths in grey, Why a paint brush goes off to kiss vain clout Of the grotesque— called a creative clay, If that be art, I have some worthy doubt. We pay for a peep of pulpy films more, For fictitious pens, frames of painted lore, We switch off history for entertainment, We muse and day-dream, not mind this moment. And why we find those fifty shades of grey Exciting more than truth in black and white; Why we wear masks, less than truthful roles play, Why oh why lies live longer than truth's light. A truth angel, who whole life walked uphill, Who, hesitated not truth— to uphold, A crucial moment in life arrived still, And an untruth we call half-truth, was told. The epic says: but he did for it pay, The message is: tell lies and pay the price— A wealthy man's escape root somewhat grey, If you afford, you get a loaded dice! A much patted and pampered pet for long, A cat loves not else than her own sweet self, No one's pet still, and illusive like elf, Man likes fibs more than facts, not right, but wrong! ___________________________________________________ Musings | 04.07.12 | Topic: truth, lies, human nature