Well Versed (Sonnet XVII)

I am the truth. Emancipated
The very many lies we tell
To others and self as well

I speak freely. Power! Uncastrated
You claim not to love me, but I am not hated
In fact, often, my lies are mainly a soft sell
Getting my wants without going through hell
For this time, where truth lies, I've long awaited

From my mouth, only the necessary ones transpire
And when I tell them, rarely, if ever, do I perspire
These lies we must tell, serve us all, meaningfully well
We live our lies, proud to wear them as professional attire
Hearing and seeing what we desire - we no longer need to inquire

Add quarters, half-truths and whole-untruths. Mix thoroughly. Apply skillfully

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