The White Lie
You must have done it. Even the most honest of us, tell the occasional white lie. Telling a person how nice they look, when in fact, they look like yesterday’s left over scraps. Or told someone how slim they look, when it’s obvious that they weigh more than a pregnant elephant. It’s a kindness. But, once in a while, even the tiniest white lie can come back, and bite you on the bum. You end up in much more trouble than, if you had just gone ahead, and told the truth. Has a white lie landed you in hot water? If so, let me know about it, and I’ll turn your anecdote into a poem.
The White Lie.
By Amanda Jay Clark.
We all tell lies from
time to time,
Though the truth’s better on the whole.
I told a little white lie last week,
Now it’s grown way out of control.
"I have to wash my hair," I said,
To let him gently off the hook.
Him, it made feel much better.
Me? I felt just like a crook!
I only wanted a quiet night in,
A night curled up on the couch.
Watching TV, and eating junk food,
Some time to slob out and slouch.
Then, he called round unexpectedly,
So it’s his own fault he had to see,
Enough slimy grease coating my hair,
To fry an omelette for his tea!
Even though he was checking up on me,
I had to think on my feet.
I wanted to say "how dare you!"
And shove him back out onto the street.
But I was in the wrong as well,
So the score became a tie.
But to cover up my falsehood,
I had to tell a second lie.
"I ran out of hot water," I said,
Trying not to sound too smug.
He didn’t seem to buy it,
"Why not use a water jug?"
"My kettle blew up yesterday,"
Came lie number three.
I hadn’t realised till then,
How easy lies poured out of me.
"Why not use a saucepan?"
He then wanted to know.
I had to tell lie number four,
To try and make him go.
"No hot water, so I’ve not washed up,
My pans are piled in the sink."
It was the only excuse I was able to find,
As I hadn’t had time to think.
Then, he got all helpful,
And added to my guilt.
Giving me no other choice but,
To add to the wall of lies I’d built.
"I’m good with electrical gadgets,
Let me see what I can do.
Just give me ten minutes,
And I’ll have that kettle fixed for you."
"Oh heck," I thought without saying,
Feeling like a rat.
The kettle wasn’t broken,
But I couldn’t tell him that.
"I’ve got a better idea," I said,
Hoping he wouldn’t spot a con.
"Give me a pound coin for the meter,
And I’ll put the immersion heater on."
He dug down deep in his pocket,
Brought out a handful of stuff.
A penny, and a cough sweet,
A used snot rag, and some fluff.
He tried the other pocket,
And had a dig around.
He found a key fob, and some breath mints,
But no pound coin was found.
"It’ll have to be the repair job,"
He said with a proud grin.
"Oh, I’ve just remembered, love,
It’s already in the bin!"
The lies were coming faster,
And were beginning to mount,
Higher than the national debt,
Too numerous to count.
Things were getting tense now,
With a frantic flow, and ebb,
Like a choppy, angry, stormy sea.
Oh, what a tangled web.
I was quickly going off him.
I wanted him to sprint,
At breakneck speed back through the door,
But he couldn’t take a hint.
"Come back round to my place,"
He said with thoughtful care.
"I’ve got plenty of hot water,
So you’ll be able to wash your hair."
I was weakening in the battle.
In danger of losing the war.
I was running out of lies to tell,
And the whole thing became a bore.
So much for enjoying a quiet night in,
The noise was about to grow.
I’d have to be direct if I wanted him gone,
And tell him straight, to go.
"Thanks for the kind invitation,"
I said with a false smile.
"But it’s now too late to bother,
I’m going to bed in a little while."
"How about I join you?"
My blood ran cold with disgust.
I was feeling frigid,
And he was full of lust.
Not a bloody chance pal,
I wanted to scream out.
Then, I thought of the perfect solution,
So, I began to flirt, and pout.
"Darling, how I love you,
You really drive me wild.
I think that we should marry,
I want to have your child."
He left scorch marks on the carpet.
I could smell shoe leather burn,
As he ran away in terror,
Never to return.
It worked just like a magic charm,
I knew it wouldn’t fail.
"I love you," can strike terror,
Into the toughest, randy male.
I’ve really learned my lesson.
From now on, it’s the truth.
No matter how awful it sounds,
No matter how uncouth.
No matter what he thinks of me,
When the next one comes along,
I’ll be honest right from the beginning.
Tell him "I’m right, and you’re wrong!"
No more pretending to wash my hair,
To escape when I’m not in the mood.
No more Him calling all the shots,
I’ll be wooed when I want to be wooed.
And, when it comes to that so called "moment,"
When I’m supposed to scream his name,
I’ll say "Sorry, I can’t fake it,
So I won’t if it’s all the same."
No more saying, "Oh darling,
Of course you’re the best I’ve had."
When inside my head is screaming,
"When this is over, I’ll be glad!"
I don’t care if he’s offended.
The truth is still the best.
It saves from going to confession,
To get the lies off of my chest.
Life is so much easier,
Now the truth has set me free.
From now on, I take care of number one,
And number one, is me!
The White Lie, is protected
by copyright, and remains the property of the author, Amanda Jay
Clark.