Influenced by numerous friends’ belief in angels, despite the no-longer-so-little cherubs also being their teenaged children.

With thanks to C Ottonbro Studio for use of the header image.

It’s disconcerting
Very
When someone much younger
Who you’ve known
Their whole life
Tries to pull a fast one
Lie to you
It’s so obvious
Screaming like
The sorest thumb
And there they are
Bare faced lying
Just like we did
Or
As it would therefore
Apparently seem
Tried

How on Earth
We ever thought
The wool would be
Pulled over
Grown adults’ eyes
With all those
Terrible lies
Hole punctured stories
Like machine guns of truth
Had raked them
A hundred times over
Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta
Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta
Tearing the breath
The falsehoods had sailed on
To shreds

Except
There are my friends
The parents
Who don’t see
The ugly reflection
Of the crafty little liar
They once were
Looking back at them
Preferring to flatter
The ego
And believe
The little beggars
Instead
Of consider their
Beautiful babies
Capable of ever
Ever . . .
Uttering a word
Of untruth
To such a doting
Parent’s face

Solid, strong and
Trusting
They have me know
Best of mates
That’s the thing
Trust
That really counts
Apparently
So they say
But I see their trust
How much
They’ve invested in it
Know that they’ve
Gone got themselves
A big ol’ heap
Of Fools Gold
From people
Who soon
Won’t be able to wait
To put them in a home
Or whatever the more
Profitable option is
Like euthanasia
And six-feet under

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