Liars are
What I hate,
Yet I am
One that is
Horrible for lying,
So I must hate myself.
I have the talent
To lie to ones
Who trust me
And love me
Without them
Ever knowing.
And there’s
No doubt
That
I take advantage
Of this.
I can tell lies
From truths
Normally.
I have to say
Normally
Because I
Didn’t see yours.
Your lie has hurt me
Much more than ever expected;
I won’t forget it.
I can’t help
But to think about
Your lie now
And the pain it caused me
Whenever I
Lie to somebody
I care about.
So curses to you
For causing me to feel guilt
About my talent.
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