Written by Tanya Singh
I wonder what I sound like when I lie,
Do I sound like a coward hiding behind a face, everyone remarks beautiful,
Like golden leaves of a broken tree whose existence lies in the land of Aporia,
that just wither away / proclaiming the sacrifice while giving up the virtue of the kind,
What expression do I hold when I smile blankly/ the fake smile of dead butterflies,
Is it the look of deceit or charm that literally strikes the sight/ like a handsome stranger of good dreams on a Monday beach,
Do our gloves turn to rust from pale white,
Is the lie a favourite lullaby? Nothing tells. Nothing tolls of the end,
And with that lie, the child sleeps with no fear of war.
Those who rest in peace can only pray/ that my child sleeps in a better peace,
We do nothing,
To sing, as a mother, a better lullaby,
Better than the one that rhymes with a lie.
– Originally Published at Voices of Youth (http://www.voicesofyouth.org/en/posts/mother-sings-a-lullaby)