I wrote this piece a few years ago when I was going through a period of doubt. I believe it went something like, “Why do I keep feeding myself this plateful of lies?”, and this is how this poem was born.
I think the beauty of it is that you can insert yourself into it however it fits your season of life. Maybe you are feeding yourself lies, or maybe you are watching someone else do it, and perhaps you can begin to stop the feeding and see the truth for what it is.
Plateful of Lies
Feeding yourself a plateful of lies,
You find yourself never full.
The motion of scooping and feeding,
Feeding and scooping,
Leaves elbows sore, mouth open,
In hopes of honesty in between chews.
Never truly able to swallow the lies,
So they tumble back onto your plate
Useless, therefore never used for good,
Leaving the faint glimmer of drool,
Stomach never full.
You see, lies have empty calories.
Belly distended from the assortment of untruths,
Giving the false hope of being full,
Yet with every scoop you’re slowly starving to the depths.
Your reflection shows skin stretched
Over bone,
Until you find yourself close to death
From the lies you keep feeding yourself,
With a side dish of regret.
The pangs of hunger for the truth ever throbbing,
For the truth of life – the pace of chewing has become alarming,
To fill the void somewhere deep in your soul,
To stop the hunger, the starving,
The back and forth motion has become exhausting.
Your hopes to see an empty plate smeared with the remnants of food,
Knowing the emptiness signifies that you’ve found the truth,
Within your heart, within your veins,
Hoping never to see a glimpse of remains
The plate of lies, washed and cleaned and put away.
Much love,
Candy
