What goes on underneath those piercing eyes
When they see me? Do they perceive the joke
I think I am, the saint who hates all lies
Because of all the promises he broke?
What do you see—an old man acting young,
Or someone young inside an aging shell?
A ballad fading out or still unsung?
Someone who casts a shadow or a spell?
I’d like to be a threat, but if you do
See me that way, just run—run far from me.
I’ll hurt you till the thing you thought was true
Becomes a lie that wounds you mortally.
Don't trust my words—I want you to believe them.
Don't trust your eyes—I know how to deceive them.
Copyright 2016 Matthew J Wells