White lies

White Lies


I know no worlds beyond the skies,
No hidden stars where virtue sleeps—
No land where truth in silence dies,
And softer tongues the conscience keeps.
There are no words that truth replace,
No phrase that cleanses false intent;
I speak my thoughts and show my face—
Unbent, unmasked, and unrelent.

I honour those whose voices tear
Through veils with rough but righteous hand—
Whose bitter truths, though hard to bear,
Are stones on which the wise will stand.
I cannot feign “compassion’s will”
When lies are dressed in gentle guise,
Nor bow to tact, nor mute my skill
To trade the truth for whitewashed lies.

All men deserve the truth’s sharp sting,
Though cold, though cruel, though it may burn—
For flatterers no virtue bring,
And cravens rarely honour earn.
We live among deceit’s caress,
Where falsehood wears a friendly smile—
And call it “grace” or “tenderness,”
While morals rot in self-denial.

They call truth rude, and praise the art
Of soft deceit that soothes the day,
While white lies poison from the start,
And teach the soul to drift and sway.
Oh, “white lies”—blessed, holy shroud?
As if the wolf might spare the lamb!
A lie is lie—clear, fierce, and loud—
Though dressed in silk or sweet as jam

Inspired by dr Jordan Peterson