My philosophy has always been simple:
Don’t ask
Don’t tell.

I am the expert at lying
by omission.
No,
not lying exactly,
but
wouldn’t you agree
that what you don’t know
can’t hurt you?

Don’t worry about me,
I’m Fine,
always fine.
I can handle myself,
I always have.

Feelings?
I don’t know what you are talking about,
I am a robot,
feelings simply don’t
compute.
You’re knocking at the wrong door.
I have nothing to tell you,
[not anymore.]

Look a bird!
I can manipulate any conversation
away from me,
just by distraction.
The trick is to let people
talk and talk and talk and
forget,
so I can check out.

No one knows the difference,
and I am called a good listener
for doing nothing.
No harm done.
All anyone needs is a blank slate
to talk at.
I can fill that role.

Honesty?
Don’t talk to me about honesty,
what good does it do?
Why should I be honest?
It’s no one’s business anyway.

My philosophy has always been simple:
Don’t ask,
Don’t tell.

Subtly, so subtly, the workings of Time
Must alter the shape of the outer shell
Of a body once vibrant and molded so well!

Slowly, but surely, like a wood-boring worm,
Out of the gloom of a perilous clime,
Firm in the grasp of a seasonable term,

Comes the chill-laden wintry spell
Of sad infirmity in a dismal sphere;
Lost in the woods of a cherished dream,

In the thickening fog of Nature's scheme,
Midst muffled sounds of distant strains
Are earlier years that knew no fear

Of time and age, what now remains
Eternity must rightly redeem.