(Somehow something messed up as I tried to add this, and it deleted the post instead of editing re-posting with edits. So a new post.. )
I have to say, I am so proud of Oldest's first attempts at writing.
He has written others, and I would love to share them as he allows me.
He is in the initial phase of writing where he doesn't believe his stuff is good enough yet, he wants perfection and gets frustrated that he can't find the perfect turn of phrase or rhythm.
So like his momma there.
Written by my oldest
Lies are truly a horrible thing
Sitting in wait, from summer to spring
Even though no one needs them at all
Lies will always be there
To aid in your fall.
Lies have their own nasty consequence
Even if not caught, they beat at your consciousness
Even in love, Lies work to escape
From Summer to Spring, they sit in wait.
For they are the spark,
That lights the flame of hate
When hate burns through Love and Beyond
Lies sit on the sidelines, cheering it on.
No one can understand, certainly not me,
Why Lies are what we turn to,
In times of large, or small need.
Lies are despicable, that much is true.
However, we seem to depend on them.
Yes, me and you.
However, no one hates lies more,
than the ones who have seen,
The horrors they can do.
What no one can understand
No, not even I
Is how someone so pure
Could still resort to Lies
The ones that are pure-
Is their purity true?
It could be more Lies
No one knows that but you.
After all, I thought the feelings were so right.
Until Lies were invited to the party
Of our beautiful, and untainted Light.