adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, May 10, 2005


Forgive me, I don't remember
Which lies I told last time;
I had a little too much
Tequila with my lime
And I may have embellished
The stories just a bit.
All my friends could tell you
Sometimes I'm full of...wit.

Did I show you my scar,
Say it's from the war?
In reality,
I got it from a door.
I've never flown to Europe,
Picnicked by the Seine;
In fact I've never even
Been on an airplane.

I might have said I love you,
That you're the only one.
We kissed, I'm pretty sure;
I may have called you 'hon.'
Now doubt, you think I'm awful,
A liar like most men,
But keep in mind I tell
The truth now and then.

Stephen Brooke ©2005

I reckon this might turn into a song -- would need a chorus of some sort and that's only a working title. I seem to be in songwriting mode at the moment.

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