The Art of Deception

A short poem

Photo by Anders Jildén on Unsplash

Golden hour has now reached its peak

and its hypnotic powers have been put to rest.

Soon, the warm, gold painting in the sky

will vanish.

And her moonstruck smile

will reappear.

Reflecting its evening glow

upon her windowsill.

Soon, she’ll swallow her pride

along with the proper dosage, to keep her at ease.

She’ll take deep breaths, count to ten,

then come down for dinner time.

She’ll pretend to be good company

and laugh at all your jokes.

She’ll smile and nod,

gritting her teeth and clenching her jaw.

All to prove she’s just like you.

Nothing more and nothing less.

All to prove that she is not so unwilling.

That she will not be affected

in the same way

the moon controls the tides.