Curtain Call

Once delivered
like unexpected gifts
it's easy to read your lies, they,
transparent as your vanity
ripple like shallow puddles,
a cynical fathomless mirage
as you cry profusely.

So I melt, alarmingly
butter not ice,
ready and too willing to mop tears,
massage your fragile ego
with searching finger-sized platitudes
and pledge allegiance
for just one more day.

© Graham Sherwood 06/2016