A poem about people telling lies and how the truth, which can hurt sometimes, is necessary. Leaves a bitter taste on the pallet, seeps into the tongue. Emotions flowin heavily, as if they have the runs. Cons amongst realists get exposed fast. Cant deny truth when its extremely evident, from past, present, and future actions. Move to a different class. High CLASS. Integrity through words that might last a tale or two longer than your average. Its sad, people you meetll talk out of their ass-es, mouths rough as a cactus, words wisps away like ashes... Their eyelashes, Lord, keep them combined turning prayer. I never said Id never tell a lie. So, FELLOW, ladies and gents, wheres my halo? Mental rent is way past due, especially when it comes to the subject of truth.