Deceit Poem by Shruti Goswami

Half truth: how cruel is that?
As good as deceit.
Like the waves, they flood your coast:
And then, quietly, recede.
So let us call it deceit, not half truth,
Its sheer helplessness, no one can soothe.
Deception isn’t that uncommon;
It’s that sinking feeling, when you love,
Only to glance at what is above.
But down beneath, lie deceit, every bit of it.
And fool I am, to be happy in love.
To think, your world revolves around me
And you, smirking, silently thinking,
What a fool is She?
You goad on you success of hiding reality,
You think, you are high on morality,
By blurting a half truth,
And I would not realise.
You make it appear, to be your own decision,
Hiding the truth, with a surgeon’s precision.
What you do not realise, my dear,
Ignorance is not better than fear.
Every dropp you take, you drink my blood,
The more I clean myself,
The more you shove me into dirt,
The waves, bring a lot of sand to the shore,
But lo! They take back so much more,
Your deceit, takes back much more,
Than what your love professes to show.
You hope to shield, to hurt no more,
But I am slowly dying, to the core.
Let me tell you, once and for all,
Kill me, for I cannot stand to see you,
Rise and fall.