Oh, a liewish, a lieiwsh
a twisty-truth skewish-
a tale spun so wild,
it hopes to be true-ish.

It starts as a whisper,
soft as a sigh,
a fib with its fingers
crossed up to the sky.

“I’ve danced on the moon!”
or “I never feel blue!”
a liewish floats up
like a daydream’s debut

It’s a word in disguise,
a bluff in plain view,
a hope draped in make-believe,
sly as it grew.

Some say it’s a fib,
some say it’s unwise,
but a liewish just grins
and pretends it’s a prize

For what is a dream
if not wishes that lie?
so here’s to the liewish,
that dares and defies.