A Confluence of Lies
You close your book,
aware of history being rewritten
not by the victors,
but by imagination,
fear, disbelief, lenses
driven by every mind's ability
to lie to ourselves more effectively
than others lie to us,
a confluence of lies.
like a river swollen in spring,
carrying us to the sea
of our own choosing.
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The picture was taken in Williamsburg. You can click on it for a larger version.
Tom
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