I listen carefully to all the conversations
around me,
To stories, myths, mysticism
and “Bobbe Meises”
Exaggerations, tall tales,
fabrications, and fairy tales.
Deceit, misrepresentation, lies
and damned lies.
I wonder where lies
the truth.
I’ve a soft touch for salesmen
with all sorts of wares.
Been sold, encyclopedias, which
lack info I need.
Mattresses whose springs give
way to an early autumn,
Heaters that never see a single
winter,
and summer shades that shrivel in the
heat.
Been sold shares that died an
unnatural death, the day after.
Books that are totally
dissimilar the outer cover blurb.
Holiday accommodation with a glorious
view of the sea.
if I stand on a stepladder and
crane my neck enough,
to see a
patch of the blue.
But worst of all a taxi driver
who took me for a ride.
Quoted me thirty shekels for a
normal eleven shekel trip.
And then short changed me, with
trickery, turning my
Fifty shekel note, into twenty, demanding
that I pay another ten.
A lying bastard, a bandit, and
a highwayman.
There are politicos who make
election promises that are never kept,
Presidents, swearing their way
into immediate perjury.
Lawyers who part you of
your money, like taking toffee from kids.
International accountants, who
Crook the Books, for a handsome fee.
Corruption so rife, that Mafia
professionals, struggle to compete.
So many liars in the world
around, crooks, twisters and thieves,
Honest men are not easily found.
I often ask myself
"Where lies the truth."
by Hillie Feldman 22 January 2002
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