Flowing Like Milk and Honey

Words don't escape me, I let them out silky and smooth like warm honey…

Words are disharmonious
to the tune of a flat
your talent for becoming
that one thing
Masters Guild
Maestro with a penchant
the beautiful misery
each word sounding more untruthful
than the next
but we don’t say
do we?

Who is to say
what to believe
when the truth is a hostage
the truth determined by the
master teller of all

Who is to say
what to believe
when every word
weighs less
means less
until eventually
there is no voice
and then
who is to say
the truth


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