BECAUSE I LIE

Because I lie
you will catch me somehow
some day
though not now

I would give
myself away because I would slip
at that critical moment
my cunning I can't always keep

though I had triumphed
many a time--in many a place
the mask must fall down
and what I inherit would only be disgrace

but I'm used
to telling every lie--I can't stop
I have become my own victim
and at the end I must lonely sob.

A knife and a treasure chest
Some great bird of the tropics
Where the man became an island
Well, well, the whale is beached
The ship is stranded on the reef
And the waters only recede
It's a last resort

I don't want to steal
But I'm happy having fun
And dying young
My piracy not confined to digital music
Its more or less defined
By blunderbuss and sea shanties
As being an outlaw
Or at last as being misunderstood

Walking the plank
Jumping into shark infested waters
Swimming with all my strength
So I can die marooned and alone

Just me, my gold, and my guns
And my ***
And my contempt

Her lubricious bikini has full of criss- crossing fancy strings,
the central idea indeed, seems to be not concealing any skin.
when you pull at any one,
the whole becomes undone,
can you blame if the focus of the action shifts to other things?

Ultimately
I'm as free as I can be
While being a slave
To this reality
But not as free as I long to be

Basically
I'm as rich as I can be
While being broken, poor, and destitute
By any economical definitions
Struggling to stay alive

But knowing I'm one of the few
Who's really living

but had very few metaphors for it
I lost all analogies ten years ago
when I
lost my innocence when
the naive rose colored glasses vanished
the minute

she walked in with that swaying
gait, the all knowing confidence
of a thing on a mission
hardly hiding the sly
demeanor
nor ever meaning to

then she was all
all I saw day or night, I sold my front
door for twenty minutes
with her smile in my lap and her hand in
my pocket picking the lock

I knew what she was meaning
to do, gave a wide corridor
for her to walk through
her street cred  made
me stealthy from myself.

In all I cannot complain, I laid myself
vulnerable, wide assed open for
the viper to slither
around my culpabilities.
Wherein lies the moral.

Keep your metaphors
close as your tool
in your pocket safe
and your similes
hid.

More better yet, hide
in naivette your jewels.