Thus why Deceive?

How simple it is to make believe

Yet there is no relieve

When you are bereaved

The very end to achieve

All the tricks up your sleeve

When in the moment of breve

The truth is there to retrieve

But sadly in that grieve

By the darkest of the eve

That what you perceive

Only the shortest of reprieve

How can it be so naive

Of the lies that are cleaved

They only paint to peeve

To those who receive

And those who conceive

Wound would not leave

For words are too much to heave

Thus why deceive?

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