Thursday, January 6, 2011


A conference room,
with temperatures freezing,
A stiff handshake,
And, then it began.

A flurry of questions,
Baring of inner souls,
The perpetual quandary
Always a baffling poser.

Do you tell the truth?
The modified truth?
The diguised truth?
or just plain lie?

Imminent in nature,
the necessity to speak up,
Befuddled I murmur,
Pulling myself together.

Giving them what they want
I simply sold my soul,
A flake, did I end up?
Isn't it after all, a job?

Now, on the other side,
I am an authority,
Not one to be deluded,
Unmasking them instantly.

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