Wednesday, 19 January 2022

On Bullshit

 On Bullsh*t

Someone wrote the essay,

So I shall write the verse,

Lying's really awful,

But bullshit's so much worse,

To lie one must at first concede

That truth must fit its place.

To lie is always to mislead,

To hide the truth so no faint trace

In evidence is left behind

To aid the honest, open mind,

Which questions falsehoods when they jar,

Against the facts as known so far.

Yet 'tangled webs' that liars 'weave'

'When first they practise to decieve'

Are evidence that their intent

Is some small part acknowledgement

That truth somewhere exists.

Bullshit brazenly persists,

No sense of how it might compare

To truth, its smirking face is bare,

It neither hides, nor turns, nor twists

Just flings itself upon the air

Audaciously and doesn't care,

And yet is proud and self aware.

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