Wednesday, April 27, 2016



Think carefully before you lie; as you are now, so once was I.
The truth and I were not acquainted, every word was malice tainted.
Mendacity was my intention, I forged my fate with each invention.
Gleefully I spread deception; for loved ones, I made no exception.
I felt the rot spread through my soul but wealth and  power were my goals.
And so the piles of gold grew high, each one acquired with a lie.
Many spurned me with disgust, as I obliterated trust
And turned their happiness to dust.
Lavish style to spare, had I, and a penthouse in the sky.
And I didn't have a care, nor a soul with whom to share.
A solitary, hollow life, no one to hear my dying cries.
No one to care that with my final breath I begged forgiveness for my lies.
Standing before Heaven's gates, I was asked, had I been kind?
And in keeping with my character, naturally, I lied.
Back to earth my soul was hurled, much to my chagrin,
To dwell eternally within these walls, with all the things I bought with sin.
 Live with honor and be truthful; a gem of wisdom from your host.
That is, if you have no objection to lessons from a ghost.

The Genie


  1. Butterfly ,
    You write beautiful poems , I do so hope you are keeping them to maybe publish someday or leave as a gift to your grand children .
    I printed the poem out today , read it to my sidekicks and my son . I asked them what they thought , Larry thought it was good writing and said you got kicked out of heaven .Harvey asked why all your poems was so sad , I asked Gil and he said the jury was out on this one , the writing was great , he was with Harvey .
    You are a good writer and should write about happy things .

    I showed them the other poems you wrote , especially the one I asked my son to read to me , the sidekicks was very moved , said those was great , they was moving and had lots of feeling in them .
    Hugs and love

  2. Thank you HB,
    I wrote this a couple of years ago after I read a story about a man whose entire life was destroyed because he told one little white lie, which grew and grew. I printed it here as a lesson to one of my grandkids, who I caught telling a big whopper. Hahahaha! Not mentioning names, in case he reads this.
    A person who writes novels can create fiction to hide behind but a person who writes poetry has to bare their soul. You never know what is going to pop out next.
    Love and hugs

  3. Howdy PIC ,
    What a great poem and you do write poetry well ... I agree with what Gil told them about writing poetry ... everyone has their own style .

    We got a comment on SHs ... I visit his blog and answered his comment ... check it out .
    Love BAW

  4. OK PIC...I was going to SH anyway
    Luv ya


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