In every lie there is a hidden truth
That tells its owner something very new;
When he himself no longer knows his ruth
There’s nothing real left for him to rue.
To others, though, it isn’t a surprise…
The truth, of which they know, brings light—
The kind that leaves his very eyes.
When doing so, another spark is bright.
This spark, sub rosa, might be covert shame
Discovered by the liar with a glance
At what resulted from his former aim.
If only he had known this in advance;
He would have saved himself from others’ scorn,
A cleared conscience would see justice be reborn.