Thursday, August 2, 2012

A Poem by M.R. Phillips

Lies, Lies & Time

It's funny
the way a lie
can hide for years. Down
under all the easy passage of time.

Lies are eggs
gestating beneath
the skin of your life. Waiting
to crossover, unknown to known.

There are clocks
meant only to count
the duration of lies. Perfect
timepieces calibrated to the hearts of men.

The release
of the lie occurs
at a precise moment. Rendering
havoc and proving love the greatest lie of all.
M.R. Phillips is a student and independent newspaper editor in North Carolina. He enjoys bourbon, black and white films, and motorcycle rides. He blogs here:

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