Truth or Lies
Truth or Lies ~ the Sonnet
My love swears that she always tells the truth,
I believe her though I am sure she lies.
She tells me I’m still in the prime of youth
But I know later middle-age applies.
I act as though she’s right and I am young,
Although she really knows I’m past my best.
I must give credit to her fibbing tongue
Though both of us the simple truth suppress.
So, how can I accuse her words unjust,
And claim she’s wrong and I am really old?
Love’s secret formula’s selective trust,
And true love always keeps you young I’m told.
I do not question her about what’s true
For better her kind lies than feeling blue.
~Or an alternative final couplet~
Perhaps I need to exercise much more
So I can tightly lock that old-age door.
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