A story I once read.
About a girl with tall tales.
Who didn’t blink to tell a lie.
Her praises not worth a dime.
To be popular, she lied.
At heart she was not bad.
Her fault laid in her beauty.
Can the face of an angel lie.
A day came, a challenge thrown.
Can you go a day without telling a lie?
To sweeten the pot, a bet made.
Cash to be given at sunset.
A referee appointed to follow.
Making sure the girl was truthful.
Motivated by cash she is ready.
Not realising the friends she’d hurt.
For so long she sugar-coated her words.
She’d forgotten that truth hurts.
A friend asked “Isn’t my dress pretty?”
“No, it’s ugly,” she told truthfully.
The prize money kept her going.
But by sunset, her shoulders sagged.
A kind old lady said, “Don’t my Lucy look pretty?”
“Yes,” she lied. The ugliest dog grinned back.
When is a lie not a lie?
Can I go a day without telling a lie?
Truthfully, I cannot.
May be one day, but not today.
By C.E. Pereira